Chuck vs Congress
by songandsilence
Summary: Because, you know, he was Chuck Bartowski. And while he’d sort of not really gotten used to being the human Intersect, he wasn’t really used to being Neo." Post-season 2!
1. Chapter 1

AN: I'm have been interning in DC all summer for the Senate, so I decided to continue Team Bartowski's story and through in some DC tidbits at the same time. :)

**Chapter One**

'Cause you can shoot me straight  
Straight to the heart 'cause you already have it  
Say what you wanna say, we're coming out of the gray  
What goes around now is coming back down today.  
_Straight Away_ – Mat Kearney

--

Marriage had, in many ways, had a calming affect on Ellie. In other ways, it had only served to make her more ferocious. While she happily settled into being Mrs. Awesome (though she smacked Chuck whenever he called her that), the subject of Chuck's future and where Sarah fit into it now seemed to be something she wouldn't let slip.

"Oh my _God_, Ellie, will you drop it? I am _not_ going on a trip with Sarah to propose to her!" Chuck lifted a box full of pictures and scrapbooks and began to walk, trying to ignore his hound-like sister who was at his heels.

"Why else would you two take a long trip to Washington DC?" she countered, popping around him to stand in his path. Chuck stopped and sighed. "Why else, hm? You two have been going out for almost two years, Chuck! It's time to make a move or call it quits."

He sidled past her, out towards where Awesome's car was parked by the curb, crammed with boxes and suitcases. "Remember how well everything turned out the last time I took your advice on that particular course of action?" he quipped dryly, making Ellie frown.

"Well, admittedly, that…wasn't the right thing to do at the time. But seriously, Chuck, you're obviously serious about the girl! She's moving in here in two days and you're about to take a trip across the country together! Why else are you going to DC, if not to propose?"

Why were they going to Washington DC? Well, the answer was simple, and as Chuck placed the box into Awesome's car, he mulled it over. He'd been free of the Intersect, he'd done something brave and stupid, he was now stuck with Intersect 2.0, and the government wasn't so happy about this new and improved Intersect. Or, rather, they were plenty pleased with the new Intersect, just not so much that it was now housed (yet again) in Chuck's head.

"Just…a vacation," he said wearily. "We just need a vacation." How true those words were. Chuck thought back to when he had asked Sarah to do him the honor of going on vacation with him. There was nothing he would like better than to lie on a beach somewhere with only sun and sand and Sarah. No Intersect, no guilt over Bryce, no government interference. Just Sarah.

Ellie made that face she made when she knew Chuck wasn't telling her the whole truth (which was pretty often these days) but she knew if she pushed it would just be worse. "Well, you two have been stressed out lately." Suddenly a bright smile broke across her face and she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Get away from California, brother. The BuyMore, the wedding, all of that is staying back here. You just get away for a while, okay?"

Chuck's heart swelled with adoration for his sister. "Thanks, El." He hugged her tightly. "I'll call you when we get there."

Awesome came up and clapped his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Later, bro. Have an awesome flight." He leaned in and whispered in Chuck's ear. "I've got your back, bro. No worries." With a wink and a firm shoulder squeeze, Awesome backed off. Chuck waved to his sister and his…his brother, and then climbed in the car.

He spent most of the drive to Sarah's thinking about the trip ahead of them. He didn't really know what was in store for him, which was mildly terrifying, but he assumed that Beckman would want to question him…maybe there would be tests…God, he hoped there weren't tests.

But really, he'd kind of like to know what was going on with him. Because, you know, he was Chuck Bartowski. And while he'd sort of (not really) gotten used to being the human Intersect, he wasn't really used to being Neo. Sure, it was cool…but kind of weird. And he'd been _so_ sore afterward he could hardly move. His muscles were _not_ used to moving like that.

And then there was the Sarah issue. Part of Chuck had been (very secretly) hoping that she would find it…hot – or something – that he could all of a sudden turn into a ninja. But no, she had been shocked, then angry at him, and then completely shut off. For God's sake, _Casey_ had to tell him a couple quick remedies for fighting injuries because she wouldn't talk to him.

In fact, most of his contact with their little team in the past week had been with Casey. The Colonel seemed almost…_proud_ that Chuck was now carrying the Intersect 2.0. He couldn't go join his special forces team now, but Chuck kind of thought that Casey was finally starting to like their little ragtag team. Every time he saw Chuck, he sort of puffed up and actually smiled a tiny bit. Sarah just avoided his eyes.

With a sigh, he pulled up in front of her hotel and called her on his cell.

"Hello?" she said, her voice blank.

"I'm here. You want help with your bag?"

"No. I'm fine. I'll be down in a minute."

Chuck sighed again, frustrated that his newly enhanced brain didn't tell him what was going on in the minds of women. Then, guiltily, he looked down at his hands as they gripped the steering wheel. She was probably feeling upset and guilty about Bryce…though she had no reason to. It was all Chuck, this time. It was all on him.

A sharp knock on his window broke him out of his reverie. Sarah was standing outside, her hair back in a tight ponytail, bangs falling across her forehead. She nodded towards the trunk, and he jumped to open it. A few seconds later, she was sliding into the seat next to him.

"Hi," he said.

"Good morning," she replied shortly, staring straight ahead.

As they drove, Chuck thought of twelve different ways to start a conversation. All of them sucked. Since when had it been so hard to talk to Sarah?

"So is it just the two of us on this trip?" he said, trying to sound casual. He wouldn't quite tell if he really wanted it to be just the two of them or if that would be slightly horrific.

"No, Casey's meeting us at the airport."

"This ought to be fun," he muttered. For a tiny moment he expected Sarah to give him a look and tell him to get over it, but she just stared ahead of them. He sighed.

The flight was not a terribly pleasant one. Sarah was the smallest, so she had been allocated to the middle seat, where she sat stoically reading something in German that Chuck didn't recognize. Not that, you know, he knew German anyway. Chuck was pressed against the window, somehow feeling like the thing to do was to give her space. So he listened to his iPod, watched some crappy in-flight movie and bickered with Casey of Sarah's head.

"The CIA or NSA couldn't get us an upgrade to first class or anything?" he said snarkily as he made the two agents stand up to let him get out of his window seat.

"Shut up," Casey snapped, but he seemed a little annoyed by the same fact.

As they approached DC, he craned his neck to peer out of the tiny window. Down below, he could see the river, the National Mall, the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building…he stared at it avidly, but the other two ignored the view. Chuck, however, had never been to Washington DC before and so was more than a little awed to see the nation's capitol in person. Then the plane began to circle into National Airport and his view changed from the capitol to a bright stretch of sky.

"So, you two have been really vague about this whole thing," said Chuck as they waited for their bags. "Now that I've put everything on hold and followed you here to DC with barely any explanation, I think I deserve one. I know that Beckman wants to talk to me about the whole Intersect 2.0 thing, but couldn't we just do a video chat or something?"

"The NSA wants to perform some tests on you," Sarah said shortly.

"Tests?" Chuck said, mild panic creeping into his voice. "What kind of tests? Not the kind with needles, right, because you guys know how I feel about needles." They didn't answer. "Guys? Needles?"

"There are our bags," said Casey blithely, walking to the carousel to grab their three bags. Chuck could only watch and pray that they were just winding him up.

Again, Chuck was the only one staring out the window as they drove. With Casey at the wheel and Sarah sitting silently in the passenger seat, Chuck was free to ignore them and just look at the beautiful city as they wound their way through it. "Guys, there's the Jefferson Memorial! And the Washington Monument! And the Smithsonian Castle! And the Air and Space Museum!"

"Chuck, shut it or I will shut it for you," growled Casey. The tension radiating off of Sarah had begun to affect him, and while he seemed almost excited to show Chuck off to the NSA, he didn't like the team being broken up. Why was the most agonizing romance of his life not even his own? He shoved that train of thought to the back of his mind and kept on driving.

"Why do people even live on the east coast? It's so freaking humid here," Chuck complained, vaguely reminiscent of a five-year-old child.

Casey's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "We both lived here for a good portion of our lives, and didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"Right. Shutting up."

Chuck was too busy looking at all of the buildings that were fairly hideous (why oh why had the government decided to build a bunch of buildings in the early 80's?) but housed important entities. Politics weren't really his thing, but he got a kick out of seeing the Department of Labor and the Environmental Protection Agency.

They drove up to yet another ugly building, Casey flashed a badge at the guard and they drove down into an underground parking garage. As they climbed out of the car, Chuck couldn't help but ask more questions.

"So is this where the NSA headquarters are? Is this where the tests are going to happen? You guys totally didn't answer my question about the needles, either."

"This is a secure meeting location," Casey said cryptically. One extremely tense and awkward elevator ride later, Chuck was lead into a conference room with no windows and a one-way mirror taking up one wall. Chuck was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

They waited for what felt like an eternity. Sarah tried her best to look like she wasn't pacing, Casey stood completely still with his hands clasped behind his back and Chuck sat facing the one-way mirror, staring at it and trying to quell the nervous tingling that was rising in his stomach.

Finally, the door opened. An older man with horned glasses entered the room, flanked by a middle-aged woman and a younger man who looked younger thank Chuck.

"Dr. Hastings?" asked Sarah quickly.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Hastings," said the older man. "And these are my colleagues, Dr.s Juneau," the woman nodded and gave a tiny smile, "and Kent." The younger man didn't smile, just nodded in a firm manner. "And I'm assuming that you two are the handlers and you," he turned towards Chuck, "are Chuck Bartowski. The Human Intersect."

"Version 2.0," said Chuck in an awkward attempt to make a joke. Dr. Juneau smiled like she thought it was funny but Hastings and Kent didn't even blink.

"I've already received the testimony of both Walker and Casey, so you two may leave."

For a moment it looked like Casey and Sarah were going to protest, but then they kept their heads down and left the room. Chuck watched them go and swallowed. This couldn't be good.

"Now, Mr. Bartowski, we – "

"Chuck's fine."

The doctor paused as he was sitting down, blinking at Chuck. "Ah. Alright. Chuck. We are very curious as to how the new Intersect has been changed and how the new flashes work."

"Shouldn't you guys, I don't know, already know that?" Chuck clasped his hands on the table, looking from one doctor to another to another. Only Juneau seemed remotely human to him.

"You are the first human subject for this updated version of the Intersect. And, of course, we only know so much about the human brain. Yours, Mr. Bartowski, is very, very special, as I'm sure you've figured out by now." Chuck gave a breathy laugh and refrained from making a snarky comment. "This Intersect was meant for a trained agent, an agent who knew how to control every aspect of his humanity, who had the previous training to handle the more…intense parts of this Intersect."

"It was meant for Bryce Larkin," Chuck said quietly, swallowing back the guilt rising in his throat.

"Yes," Hastings continued unsympathetically. "And though you have done astonishingly well under the circumstances, we honestly don't know all of the ramifications of your actions that day regarding the upload of the new Intersect."

"Let's cut to the chase," said Chuck, leaning forward on his elbows. "The tests you want to perform. What are they? You want to test how the new Intersects acts? How I flash? What happens when I flash?"

"Yes," said Hastings. "We will put you in a number of situations that require you to flash, and we will record what happens."

They fell silent, waiting for his response. Chuck looked towards the one-way mirror, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Alright. Let's get this over with."

--

On the other side of the mirror, Sarah was gripping her arms so tightly it almost hurt. Casey glanced at her a couple of times, but then figured that it was probably better if, as usual, the two of them didn't get into the whole emotional stuff. So Sarah just stood there and watched those doctors not even pretend to care about Chuck. They only cared about the supercomputer housed in his head. Which, at this moment in time, she really, really loathed.

She watched as a huge screen was lowered down one wall, and Chuck was seating facing it, facing away from them. She ached to be in there with him, just to put her hand on the back of his neck, to let him know they were there. That she was there.

"He'll be okay," Casey said gruffly, but she heard the worry in his voice. This whole time they hadn't told Chuck about the tests the NSA wanted to perform because they honestly didn't know what the tests were going to be either. Now, as the doctors began explaining the process, she felt nothing but dread and anger.

"We will run a series of images across the screen." The doctor's voice floated to them through the speaker. "You will flash, and we will employ several methods to test what abilities your are given with each flash, and how longs those abilities last. Would I be correct in assuming that your fighting skills disappeared after some time?"

"Yeah," said Chuck. Sarah could hear the unease in his voice.

"How long did they last?"

"I don't know." At the look the doctor gave him, Chuck retaliated. "I was kind of busy with everything else that was going on to catalogue my kung fu skills. Plus, it didn't really occur to me that they would…fade."

The doctor made some sort of disapproving humming noise and she saw Chuck's shoulders tense. Her own did as well, her hackles bristling. No one treated Chuck Bartowski like he was stupid on her watch.

Then the tests began. Sarah paced back and forth in front of the mirror as image after image shot across the screen and Chuck shifted in the chair. The three doctors sat to the side and recorded…doctorly things. Every so often the images would stop and Hastings would ask Chuck what he had flashed on and if he sensed any new abilities. Sometimes nothing new came with the flash, just information. Other times, Chuck would say in a semi-amazed voice that he suddenly knew how to do things like tie and Eye Splice Knot or hotwire a '67 Mustang or speak Xhosa.

This went on for hours. And hours. It was obvious that the constant flashing was exhausting and quite possibly painful for Chuck. He slumped in his chair and his voice became flat and tired, but the doctors kept on going. Sarah wanted to bang her fist on the one-way mirror and yell at them for being so insensitive towards another human being. Towards _Chuck Bartowski_, who deserved so much better than this from the government he had been serving.

"Are they going to finish soon?" she said angrily to Casey. "He's obviously exhausted." Casey shrugged like he didn't care, but she could tell by his stance that he was anything but calm. Frustration seething beneath her skin, Sarah turned away. She couldn't even watch anymore, couldn't keep feeling so _helpless_. When it came to protecting Chuck – from anything, anyone – she did not like feeling helpless.

Then, sometime near three in the morning, the doctors finally decided they had enough information to begin (_Begin?_ Sarah seethed in her mind) their research. They left the room, left Chuck in the chair, and didn't look back. Sarah's first impulse was to run to Chuck and make sure he was okay, but as she took a step towards the door, something held her back. A lump rose in her throat.

By that time, Casey was already past her and through the door, dragging Chuck to his feet and helping him to the door. Sarah hovered awkwardly, but Chuck was close to passing out with exhaustion, so she slung and arm around him to help Casey.

He smelled like a sterile airplane, but underneath that he smelled like Chuck. It was like a kick to the stomach as she inhaled it, so she held her breath.

--

Chuck woke in a strange hotel room, a beam of sunlight sneaking through the curtains to hit him directly in the eyes. Blinking and sitting up, he stretched his incredibly sore muscles and rubbed a hand across his face. He felt kind of like someone had taken a hammer and hit him over the head with it. Repeatedly. And he wasn't even hungover. Life just wasn't fair.

At that moment, the door opened and Casey stuck his head in. Chuck was too tired to be surprised. "Good, you're awake," Casey said briskly. "Meeting in half an hour."

"Meeting with who? And what are you doing in my room?" Chuck asked blearily, running a hand through his hair and making it stand on end.

"We rented a suite. The meeting's with the new director of the CIA, Benjamin Saunders." With that, he shut the door.

Chuck let loose a deep-seated sigh. This was going to be some trip.

--

TBC!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks to everyone for the incredible response to the first chapter! :D Sorry it took me so long to post this - I usually try to keep a chapter ahead of what I post, but chapter 3 is proving to be kind of a bitch, so I'm posting this anyway. Thanks for reading!  
And, obviously, I don't own Chuck and am making no profit from this.

---

**Chapter Two**

Is there blood in your system?  
Are there stones in your heart?  
Alien creation  
Go and find your star  
And everything I do  
And every time I talk to you  
Nothing's getting through  
Is it over?  
_Know By Now_ – People in Planes

--

"Do we have any ice and pain killers?" asked Chuck as he wandered out into their suite. "Or maybe a whole new body? You government types can swing that, right?"

"Water and Ibuprofin on the counter," said Sarah without looking up from where she was sitting at their small table, reading the newspaper.

"Thanks. I guess hoping for something stronger would be useless?" She didn't answer. "Look, I am pretty much completely wiped out from the tests yesterday and you've barely said a word to me in two weeks. What is so wrong between us that you can't at least show some freaking sympathy for me?" He didn't know where he'd gotten the guts to say something like that to Sarah Walker, but he was just gonna go with it.

Apparently that wasn't the best plan. She looked up at him, set down the newspaper, stood, and walked into the room he assumed was hers. Throwing up his hands in defeat, Chuck sat down at the table and leaned over. The cool fake wooden surface felt wondrous on his aching forehead.

Casey walked in, in a suit, and sat down across from Chuck. For a while they didn't say anything, and Chuck didn't lift his head from the cold table.

"Good job on the tests yesterday."

That did make Chuck lift his head. Casey? Telling him he did something good? "Um, thanks? Not like I could really help it. I'm just a computer, after all." He'd meant for it to come out as a joke, but it fell completely flat. "Thanks, Casey," he said, this time going for just plain old honesty. Casey just grunted, and they lapsed into silence again.

"So why's Sarah so pissed?"

Casey let loose an aggravated sigh. "Why can't you two just figure your own shit out for once?"

"Um, sorry?" said Chuck. They lapsed into awkward silence and Chuck put his head back on the table and closed his eyes, feeling them throb.

"She's upset about Bryce." Chuck opened his eyes but didn't move his head. It was probably easier if they didn't look at each other. Casey sounded uncomfortable enough as it was. "And she's mad at you."

"Why?" Chuck asked, honestly at a loss.

"She wasn't going to go on the Intersect mission. She was going to stay." Chuck felt his heart give a great big throb before it returned to its normal pace. "Now she has to stay because you're her job again." Casey paused and then chortled in amusement. "Plus, she's probably just frustrated you two can't screw now."

"Thanks for that," Chuck said dryly.

"You're welcome. Now get your ass up. You don't keep the heads of the CIA and NSA waiting. Sarah!" She emerged from her room in a sleek, simple black suit, her hair pulled back from her face. Chuck swallowed and desperately hoped she hadn't heard his conversation with Casey. If she had, she gave no sign of it.

"Let's go," she said, hitching a black purse on her shoulder and then giving Chuck a once over. "Do you have a suit jacket?" Chuck instantly felt his hackles go up at her tone.

"No. The way I figure it, the CIA and NSA owe me so much that they can just deal with the fact that I'm only in a button-down shirt and not a jacket," he said angrily. He saw Sarah tense, but she only stared him down for a moment before walking past him and out the door.

"Nice," said Casey as he walked past him as well.

Chuck swore in his head and then followed his handlers.

--

He found himself watching Sarah as she tried to sit still outside of the office. They had been waiting for ten minutes and as each minute slowly passed, it obviously became harder and harder for her to sit still. To most people, it probably looked like she was just bored and a little uncomfortable, but Chuck could see the way she crossed and uncrossed her ankles, the way her hands fluttered to her thigh every so often to check where he knew she kept a holster full of knives, the way her eyes darted around the waiting area to check all of the exits. She was nervous.

Why would she be nervous? This was her new boss after all, not an Afghani warlord or a Colombian drug dealer.

"Mr. Saunders will see you now," said the secretary, breaking Chuck's train of thought. Nervously, he stood with Sarah and Casey and straightened his tie. He should have listened to Sarah and brought a jacket. Now he just felt stupid.

The office was big, with a window looking out over the National Mall. Chuck peeked out of it and saw the Washington Monument in the distance.

The man behind the large, mahogany desk instantly made Chuck uneasy. Benjamin Saunders was a tall man, broad-shouldered, blond and incredibly good-looking. There was a little grey at his temples but he sort of looked like a young Harrison Ford. He was wearing a black suit, but he wore it like he was too big for it, like it didn't sit well on his shoulders. He was probably more comfortable in combat gear.

"Agents Walker and Casey," Saunders said with an easy smile as he walked around the desk to shake their hands. "Good to finally meet you. Both of your performances regarding the Intersect Project have been outstanding, and the CIA thanks you for your commitment and valor."

"Thank you, sir," said Sarah, and Casey echoed the sentiment. Chuck just watched Saunders, trying to figure out why he felt so on-edge.

"And Mr. Bartowski," continued Saunders, holding his hand out to Chuck. Chuck, of course, took it but the little hairs at the back of his neck were standing up. "I've heard so much about you and read your report so thoroughly that I feel like I already know you. So glad to have you with us here."

"Not really like I had a choice to come to DC," muttered Chuck before promptly getting an elbow in the ribs from Casey. "I mean, thanks, Director Saunders."

"Please, call me Ben. After all you've given up for this country, the least I can do is be on a first name basis with you." Saunders went back behind his desk and sat, leaning back easily in the chair. The three of them sat in the chairs facing the desk. "Now, to business."

They all unconsciously leaned forward slightly at those words. For all their pretending, Team Bartowski had no clue what to do now that the situation had changed so drastically. Would Sarah and Casey still be his handlers? Did he _need_ handlers anymore? Were they going to throw him in an underground bunker and throw away the key?

"It seems the Intersect Project has changed drastically." Chuck snorted lightly, but Saunders just looked at him levelly. "As I'm sure you're aware, this Intersect had various changes that make it much harder to control. It was intended, of course, for Bryce Larkin, because he was an extremely skilled field agent."

"I've been doing pretty well for myself," Chuck said sharply, annoyed.

"You have," conceded Saunders gently, "but you are not Bryce Larkin. You do not have the training he had, the skills he had acquired over years of service and missions." He raised his eyebrows rather patronizingly. "Is that correct?"

Chuck felt anger rising in his throat. "Yeah," he said tightly. "That's correct." He leaned back in his chair with a thump.

"I don't mean to be harsh," Saunders said in a placating manner, "I'm just telling the truth. The Intersect was not intended for you." He glanced from Sarah to Casey to Chuck. "However, you do have a mind that seems perfectly suited for housing it. Dr. Hastings tells me that your capacity for remembering encrypted data is phenomenal."

"Didn't we already know this with the first Intersect?"

"Chuck," said Sarah sharply, leaning forward to glare at him.

"It's alright, Agent Walker. What you're saying is correct. The thing is, this new Intersect is much larger and much more complex than its predecessor." Saunders leaned forward and laced his hands together. "In hindsight, it is completely possible that Bryce Larkin may not have even been able to hold the Intersect in his head." Chuck blinked and Saunders smiled a little. "You, however, have taken it almost completely in stride."

"So what now?" Casey interjected. "Now that he's a freaking – I mean, now that he has these capabilities, how is the situation going to be handled? Will he continue to require handlers?"

Saunders studied Casey thoughtfully for a moment. "It is, in our opinion, still necessary that Mr. Bartowski have you two as handlers. His abilities are not, at the moment, permanent and because he is the Intersect he will still need constant protection. The only difference is that now he can help out from time to time." When he finished, he smiled blithely at Chuck, who didn't smile back. What was it about this guy that was making him so freaking nervous?

"So we're staying in California," said Sarah. Chuck almost looked sideways at her, to see if her face matched her blank tone. His chest ached. Had she wanted to get away from him that badly?

"Yes, for now." Saunders stood and they did the same. "Thank you so much for coming. We'll be in touch."

As Chuck shook his hand, he said, "So we can go home now?"

"Hm. Well, I'd rather you stick around in DC for the moment." Saunders smiled. "Think of it as a vacation. Go sightseeing, take a tour of the Capitol. Relax."

"Okay," Chuck said slowly.

"It was nice finally meeting you, Mr. Bartowski," Saunders said as they left the office. Chuck looked over his shoulder at the man but he was just smiling.

"Something about that guy gives me the creeps," said Chuck in the elevator.

"Chuck, that's the head of the CIA. Be respectful," said Sarah.

"But I didn't flash on him!" As he said the words, their rightness hit home. When had he ever not flashed on someone working for the government? They all had documentation, paper trails.

"He's the highest ranking member of the Central Intelligence Agency. You think he's in the Intersect?" Sarah said, somewhat disdainfully.

"Yes," Chuck replied strongly. "He's part of the organization who designed the damn thing – he _should_ be in there. Even if the information is classified or limited, he should be _in there_."

"Chuck, stop freaking out. You're overreacting. Ben Saunders is the new head of the CIA and therefore in charge, so get used to him being around." Sarah crossed her arms.

With a _ding_, the doors of the elevator opened. Casey shot through first, muttering something about bickering old couples. "Ah, _Ben_, I see," said Chuck sarcastically. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be transferred to DC permanently so you can work directly for _Ben_ here?"

"You're being immature." With that, Sarah strode past him and out the front door. With an angry sigh, Chuck followed.

--

Hours later, back in their hotel suite, Chuck was lying on his bed reading a comic book when there was a soft tap on his door.

"Come in," he said moodily, not bothering to sit up.

To his surprise, Sarah walked in. She stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed. Chuck put down the comic book and, with an ache growing in his chest, thought that even when she was glaring at him like she wanted to hit him over the head with something blunt, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. For all the attitude he was showing her, Chuck was very perfectly aware that there was no one else for him. That, of course, was the problem.

"Tomorrow you are going to be testifying before a special Congressional committee made up of the most senior members of both the House and the Senate Intelligence committees," she said bluntly.

"What?" Chuck shot up in bed, alarmed. "Are you kidding me? No, no way."

"Chuck – "

"Talk to the heads of the CIA and NSA, sure, whatever. But _Congress_? No way in freaking hell."

"Chuck, you have to. Saunders and Beckman have decided it's time to let the government know about the existence of the Intersect and where they plan to go from here, and of course they want to hear it from you." Her face looked slightly pinched and her words were forced, but Chuck was so angry he barely noticed. Standing, he faced off with her.

"Sarah, come on. You know they just want to see the Human Intersect and poke it with a stick."

"It's your duty, Chuck." Sarah's arms were tight around her, but she looked up at him sternly. "When you put the Intersect back in your head, you chose to serve this country."

"Then let me serve it another way! I'll gladly go on as many missions as you want, but I _can't_ speak in front of a Congressional committee. Sarah, I could barely speak in front of a crowd in the Buy More."

"Well, then maybe you should have thought about that before you put the damn thing back in your head!" Sarah finally exploded, uncrossing her arms violently. Chuck stared at her for a moment in amazement.

"Is _that_ what this is about? _That's_ what your angry about? What about duty, about serving my – "

Sarah interrupted him, her eyes fierce but slightly red around the edges. "You didn't have to give up any more. You were _done_, Chuck. You could have walked away with your compensation and just…lived a normal life. The normal life you wanted all along. But you uploaded the Intersect again and gave all that up. And this time you can't blame Bryce Larkin," The pitch of her voice dipped as a lump rose in her throat.

Chuck nodded slowly. "So it's about Bryce, then."

For a long moment Sarah just stared at him, hurt and anger clear in her eyes. Without answering him, she turned and left, slamming the door as she went.

Chuck collapsed on his bed, exhausted and confused.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: FINALLY wrote some more on this!! I had carefully planned out maaany chapter to this story but had, at some point this fall, misplaced the summaries and then got really bogged down in school work. It's been a brutal semester. ANYWAY, here is another chapter! Thanks for reading. :)

**Chapter Three**

And I saw  
Pictures in my head  
And I swear I saw you opening up again  
Cuz I would be heavenly if  
Baby you'd just rescue me now.

_I Saw_ – Matt Nathanson

--

"This committee will come to order. I would like to thank all the Senators and Congressmen in attendance, and both Director Saunders of the Central Intelligence Agency and General Beckman of the National Security Agency."

As the chairman of the committee, a Senator from Massachusetts, opened the committee hearing, Chuck shifted restlessly in his chair. Sarah and Casey were sitting to his left, but as far as he was concerned, Chuck was facing a raised semi-circle of desks and chairs, in which sat the Senators and Representatives making up the super top secret committee. Needless to say, his palms were a little sweaty.

"We are here," continued the Senator from Massachusetts, "to discuss a matter of the highest level of intelligence, and one the CIA and NSA have only just brought to our attention." He gave a stern look to both Beckman and Saunders. "We'll get to that later, but first I'd like to introduce the Intersect Project to this committee. This is Chuck Bartowski, the Intersect."

With all eyes focused on him, Chuck awkwardly waved and didn't bother to say anything snarky about the Intersect comment.

"After September 11th, the CIA and NSA were given orders to combine all of their intelligence, all of their secrets, into one super computer. The idea was to have all information be available to all parties. Unfortunately, the original Intersect computer was destroyed." In the slight pause the Senator allowed, the other members of the committee began whispering among themselves.

"And what happened to the information?" asked a Representative from Georgia.

The Senator from Massachusetts raised a hand and pointed at Chuck, who barely refrained from turning the color of a tomato.

"All of the secrets within the Intersect were encoded into images. Mr. Bartowski here has a practically photographic memory. When he was sent the Intersect in an email, he opened it. When he opened it, he saw all of those secrets. With the original computer destroyed, Mr. Bartowski is now the only person in the world that knows all of our secrets."

There was a stunned silence around the room. Sarah shifted uncomfortably two seats away from him.

"So, let me get this straight. All of our secret intelligence…is in this guy's head?" said a Senator from Michigan in frank disbelief.

"Hi. You can call me Chuck." Chuck did that awkward little wave thing again. All of the members stopped to look at him, and then fell into a rapid-fire conversation. Chuck only heard bits and pieces of it, but it seemed like everyone was shocked and appalled that they, a) hadn't heard about the Intersect before and, b) that it was in Chuck's head.

"I guess they don't really want to know that this is actually the _second_ time the Intersect has ended up in my head," Chuck leaned over and whispered to Casey. The Colonel just grunted and glared at him.

"Mr. Bartowski," said the Senator from Washington, leaning on her elbows and peering down at him. "Can you tell us, exactly, how the Intersect functions in your brain?"

Chuck cleared his throat. "Well – " Casey interrupted him with a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Ow! What the hell, Casey?"

"Stand up," he whispered sharply. Chuck did so very promptly.

"Right. Sorry. Um, well, the Intersect works via images…and sounds, I guess. It, um, well, I see something or hear something and it triggers something in the Intersect. My mind sort of overrides the rest of my body, and I get a flash of images – encoded images – in front of my eyes. And then I know the intel." After using his hands to illustrate his point, Chuck shoved them in his pocket and looked up at the committee expectantly. They didn't say anything. "And…that's pretty much it."

"Except, lately it has changed," said a Representative from Ohio. "Now, when you…flash…you are given certain abilities, correct?"

"Yeah. I mean, correct."

"And your handlers," continued the Rep., "are these two right here? Agents…Casey and Walker?"

"Yes sir," replied Casey and Sarah.

"And you've been with Mr. Bartowski for…almost two years now."

"That is correct, ma'am."

"Has Mr. Bartowski been…helpful in your duties?" _What's that supposed to mean?_ Though Chuck irritably.

"Uh, yes ma'am. I mean, he's kind of a klutz, but he's gotten better and he's actually pretty good at some of the geek stuff on his own."

"Thanks a lot, Casey."

"No problem."

"Mr. Bartowski, you are now able to, say, fight off a group of armed guards? Or disarm a bomb?" interrupted one of the committee members.

"Well, actually, I've kind of disabled a bomb on my own before," Chuck said with a little self-satisfied laugh. When no one laughed with him, he trailed off awkwardly. "I mean…well, it doesn't really work that…precisely."

"Can you elaborate further?" asked the Representative from Georgia sharply.

"Now, the flashes are…well, out of control is a strong turn of phrase…but yeah, they're out of control."

The committee erupted into whispers again. "So you're saying," said one Senator, "that you have no control over what happens to you when you flash?"

"That is generally correct."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I like to think that the Intersect gives me the abilities I need for certain situations," began Chuck slowly. "For instance, when I need to take down five Fulcrum baddies, I turn into a kung-fu badass. Hopefully, if I were to need to disable a bomb, I would know which wire to cut." He paused. "But it could also make me start speaking only in Polish while in India, or the only information it could give me might be how to make soufflé when I need to use an AK-47."

There was a slightly stunned silence.

After that, the hearing stretched into hours and hours of awkwardness and frustration. The members of the committee barely looked at Chuck, and when they did they were either stern or curious. They didn't look at him like he was a human being, but like he was some strange commodity that they didn't know how to deal with.

"Was that the wrong thing to say?" Chuck leaned down and whispered to Casey.

Casey glared at him. "Probably." He glanced at Sarah, who had yet to say anything and was just staring straight ahead, as if the committee was a firing squad and she could hold of their fire by sheer force of will.

The Senators and Representatives had gone back to talking amongst themselves, so Chuck sat back down and turned to face her. "Sarah? Any useful advice right about now? How am I doing?"

She glanced at him, her blue eyes fierce. "You're doing fine, Chuck," was all she said. Chuck was about to push for more, but then the committee chair's voice rang out again.

"The committee will take a recess until tomorrow to discuss the new information given to us today. The meeting will resume at precisely 8 AM tomorrow. That is all." Brusquely, the Senators got up and filed out of a side door, leaving Chuck to star after them with his mouth slightly open.

"That was it? They're just leaving?" He said, waving his hand towards the door.

Casey grunted. "Now that they have the basic information, they'll want to discuss how they want the meetings to proceed from here." Eyebrows raised, Chuck watched as Beckman and Saunders just stood and left as well, without so much as looking at them.

"So how long are we going to be here?" He asked.

Casey shrugged, trying to come off as flippant when Chuck could really see he was angry. "Indefinitely."

Anger boiled up in Chuck's chest. He turned to the other member of Team Bartowski. "Sarah?" he asked plaintively.

Without looking at him, she just stood. "I'll meet you back at the hotel." Chuck's mouth hung open as he watched her all but run out of the chamber. A strange, empty sort of hole seemed to open in his chest as he watched her go. Suddenly and fiercely, he missed the days when she had jumped to his every defense. It'd be nice to have someone other than Casey on his side.

"Come on, nerd. Let's go."

--

Sarah, uncharacteristically, found herself at a bar. She'd almost run out of the Capitol Building and hopped in a cab, telling the driver to take her to any bar, as long as it wasn't too close by. Obligingly, he had taken her to some place in Dupont Circle she didn't know the name of.

And now here she was, at four in the afternoon, sitting at the bar with a gin and tonic in front of her. She wasn't drinking it (yet), but instead just staring at it and thinking about why she was so unbelievably, unbearably angry. The problem was, it wasn't hard to figure out why.

Sitting through that meeting had made her want to leap out of her chair and throw her knives (which she had been forced to surrender at the security check) into the throats of every Congressman there. Controlling that violent urge had taken up most of her attention during the proceedings. Still, she'd had enough attention left over to know how flustered and agitated Chuck was getting.

And therein lay the root of the problem. Chuck. Because, of course, everything came back to him. Leaning her head in her hands, Sarah exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

Just then, a familiar voice came on over the stereo system – Aretha Franklin crooning 'Ain't No Way'. Though Sarah didn't really listen to much music nowadays, her father had brought her up one Patsy Cline and Aretha Franklin, and she worshiped them both. As she sat there, the song worked its way up her spine and settled in her brain, spreading a weird sort of warmth all through her body.

Leave it to a song that she hadn't heard in probably eight years to get her mind running. Even though the lyrics didn't exactly fit whatever was going on between them…still. Aretha was singing about doomed love, and Sarah was in the sort of pitiful mood where that was affecting her.

Because, she had to face it, she was in love with Chuck.

It wasn't exactly a new realization, but never had it been so painful to think about (and that was saying something). The thing was…they had just come _so close_ to having a normal life together, but he'd had to go do something noble and stupid and ruin it all. She had lost a lot that day: the chance of a life without the CIA and with Chuck, and Bryce.

His name sent a spike of pain through her body, but she battled it back and shoved it out of her mind. She was getting too good at doing that.

Finally taking a long chug of her drink, Sarah ignored the headache pounding at the backs of her eyes. She had tried to talk herself out of liking and then loving Chuck _so _many times that it was just plain futile now. His grin and warm eyes and broad shoulders and awkward hilarity and _goodness_ had worked their way so deep underneath her armor that they weren't leaving any time soon.

She heaved a big sigh and took another drink. _So, basically, I'm screwed._

--

"How is everything going??" exclaimed Ellie with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. Chuck flinched a little.

"It's going really well, El," he began, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. "We got a tour of the Capitol building today done by one of those Congressional interns…who knew a freakish amount about the building. Then we hit up the National Botanical Gardens, had lunch on the Mall – "

"Sorry Chuck, but I don't really care about the Botanical whatever right now. How are things with you and Sarah?" He could see her in his minds eye, practically jumping up and down. He sighed deeply.

"I didn't propose to her and I'm not going to." There was a pause on the other side of the line.

"But…then why did you take her all the way to DC?" Ellie asked, puzzled.

"I told you before we left that we just needed a vacation. Things have been…really stressful lately." _That was an understatement,_ though Chuck wryly. "We needed to get away for a while. That's it."

"Oh," said Ellie, disappointment clear in her voice. "Well…have you at least thought about it?"

Chuck paused for a long moment. "Yeah, El, I have. But I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet."

There was a thoughtful hum on the other end of the line. "Well, there's that at least. Oh, hey, Devon wants to talk to you for a sec. Have a good time, little brother."

"Thanks, sis."

"Hey bro," Devon's voice boomed over the phone. "How's DC?"

"Uh, great," Chuck replied, more than a little surprised that Awesome wanted to talk to him over the phone.

"You don't sound too great," Awesome replied. Chuck frowned. For someone who seemed so blithely unobservant of reality, the Captain could be quite perceptive sometimes. "Problems with Sarah? Or…the other stuff?" The end of the sentence got much quieter as Awesome referenced the spy part of Chuck's life.

"Well…a little of both, actually. But this phone line isn't secure, so I can't really go into details."

For a moment Awesome was silent. "It doesn't have to be this complicated, Chuck. Do you love her?"

"Yeah," Chuck said with a resigned sigh.

"Then tell her." The words were firmly and simply said.

"She won't listen," Chuck replied, running a hand over his face.

"Then make her. You know how long it took me to get Ellie to go out on a date with me? We've told you the Lucky Sweater story forever, but the part we always leave out is that your sister thought I was being creepy and wouldn't talk to me for two weeks after I said that." Chuck burst out laughing and Awesome joined him over the phone. "Sad but true, my friend. Anyway, the point is, you have to be persistent. Don't take no for an answer. Sarah has really strong feelings for you, anyone can see that. Just…make her admit them."

"Wow," said Chuck slowly, "that was…very wise, Devon. Thanks."

"Anytime, bro. Have a good time. Or, you know, try."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thanks for all the reviews!! I'm glad people are enjoying the story. I'm finally on a roll, so there should be lots more coming soon.

**Chapter Four**

Love is only a feeling  
(Drifting away)  
And we've got to stop ourselves believing  
(It's here to stay)  
'Cause love is only a feeling  
Anyway.

_Love is Only a Feeling_ – The Darkness

--

Chuck woke up with a pit of dread where his stomach should have been and feeling like he hadn't slept at all. He lay there for a moment, running over Awesome's advice in his head. _Just tell her. Right. It's totally that easy._ He could see Sarah's face if he told her that – first, there'd be a little shock. Then some sort of pity would cross her features. Then, finally, she'd snap her wall up and tell him, like she always did, that they couldn't be together because he was an asset and she was his protector.

Sighing, Chuck flipped an arm up and over his eyes. That motel room when they were on the run was starting to seem like a million years ago and a million miles away. She had committed _treason_ for him, had been about to leave the CIA to stay with him…what had happened?

There was a sharp rap on the door. "You up, Bartowski?" asked Casey gruffly.

"Yeah," replied Chuck wearily. "Yeah, I'm up." _Unfortunately_.

"The hearing resumes at nine. Get up and get presentable."

"Thanks, Casey," he muttered, dragging his lanky body out of bed and walking to the bathroom. Rubbing his hands over his face, he almost missed that there was another person in there with him. "Oh, hi, Sarah."

She looked up quickly from where she had been leaning over the sink, rubbing her face with a washcloth. "Oh. Good morning, Chuck." She went back to washing her face as Chuck went to brush his teeth and he thought it really wasn't fair of her to be that beautiful, even without make up.

By eight-thirty sharp, they were ready to go. There was a deep-set panic building up inside of Chuck, starting in his stomach and shooting out to the very tips of his fingers in a pulsing sort of agony. He swallowed and tried to breathe as they took the car over to the Capitol Building.

They went through security with crowds of tourists hauling their cameras and getting their water bottles taken away by the terse, annoyed-looking security guards. Chuck wondered for one wild moment if he could lose himself in the crowd and just…disappear.

They went downstairs after Casey and Sarah flashed their badges but stopped when they were just outside the meeting room. Casey crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Well, this is where we leave you."

Chuck's eyebrows shot up. "What? Are you kidding me? There is _no_ way you guys aren't coming in with me."

"We have a meeting with Beckman and Saunders," said Sarah. She had that blank, professional look on her face that meant he wasn't going to get anywhere with her.

"Sarah," he said pleadingly. She shifted her eyes to look over his shoulder. Starting to feel angry instead of just panicked now, Chuck turned on the other agent. "Casey, come on. They're going to tear me apart in there without you two."

With a look that was almost regretful, Casey clapped a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Stand up for yourself. Don't let them run you over."

In astonishment, Chuck turned to Sarah, but she was still avoiding his eyes. He gritted his teeth and said angrily, "Fine. Whatever. You guys have a good meeting."

Sarah watched his back until he made it into the room while feeling bile rise in her throat.

--

"Now, Mr. Bartowski," said a Representative, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "Can you tell us how, exactly, you came to have the Intersect in your head?"

Chuck cleared his throat and straightened his tie. "Well, like I'm sure it says in the briefing books you all were given, it was sent to me through encoded images in an email."

"I meant," said the Representative, "who sent it to you?"

Chuck gritted his teeth for what felt like the thousandth time. "CIA agent Bryce Larkin."

"Whom you went to college with, is that correct?"

"Yes. Yes, sir."

"But you didn't know he was an agent with the CIA until the night agents Walker and Casey took you into custody?"

"I wouldn't call it custody, exactly – yeah, okay. I didn't know until Sarah told me."

"And Bryce Larkin was a rogue spy, correct?"

"No, not really. He just – you know, it's kind of complicated."

"We're fairly intelligent people, Mr. Bartowski. Try explaining it to us."

His hands clenched under the table in front of him, his fingernails digging into his palms. "Bryce was recruited by Fulcrum, an organization he thought to be some sort of elite, deep cover spy group working for the greater good." He paused, but when all of the Congressmen just stared down at him, he kept going. "Obviously, that wasn't true. Bryce was misled, and when he realized his mistake he sent me the Intersect via the email."

A Senator leaned forward to peer down at him. "So…the Intersect was sent to you illegally."

_Okay, miss the point entirely, why don't you,_ Chuck thought sarcastically. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Hmm." The Senator leaned over to talk to her colleague and Chuck was left to just…sit there.

--

"Thanks for meeting with us," said Saunders, sitting behind his desk with something edging on arrogant ease. General Beckman stood, stiffly, to the side of the desk, her hands clasped behind her back. Sarah and Casey were standing side by side, facing Saunders and Beckman.

"No problem, Director. General," said Casey in a clipped, professional tone.

"We want to discuss the Intersect 2.0 project," began Beckman. "It is quite obvious that, now that he has these new abilities brought on by the updated version of the Intersect, Chuck will need official training. We can't have an untrained not-quite-spy running around Los Angeles flashing and doing who knows what." She frowned. "We're here to decide how to do that."

"That would be a disaster," said Saunders mildly, almost as if to amuse himself.

"If I may, General," said Casey, "it would be fairly easy for Agent Walker and myself to train Bartowski while in Burbank. That way we can keep close surveillance on the asset and train him ourselves."

General Beckman opened her mouth to reply but was stopped by a low, skeptical hum from Saunders. She turned to look at him. "Yes, Director? You have something to say?"

Saunders raised his eyebrows and smiled pleasantly. "Oh, I did, thank you." He sat up straighter. "I know that you two and the Intersect are used to a sort of…long leash. A certain number of freedoms, shall we say. And in the past, there has been a tendency for the three of you to get into unnecessary problems because you were lax with protocol and had no one to stop you." Making his fingers into a steeple in front of him, he smiled blithely. "Not that I don't think you all have done fine work out there."

"Now, just a moment, Director – " Beckman started to say.

"His name is Chuck," said Sarah through her clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry?" asked Saunders.

"You called him 'The Intersect'. He has a name, and it's Chuck Bartowski."

"Cool it, Walker," said Casey under his breath. "Now's not the time."

"Not the time for them to start treating him like a human being?" she asked archly, looking at her partner. "You know what, Chuck has done amazing things in the service of his country after being put into a position he never wanted to be in. Ever. I know he's the only one with the Intersect information right now, and you might find that more important than Chuck's life but the man at least deserves your respect." Heaving a breath after her outburst, she felt Casey's hand gripping her arm in warning. Her eyes were locked with Saunders', though, and he just continued to look at her pleasantly.

"Now, agent Walker," said Beckman, "we do recognize all Mr. Bartowski has done for the NSA and the CIA and we are prepared to reward him handsomely. And," she shot a glance that was verging on a glare towards Saunders, "we are also prepared to give your team some leeway in how to proceed with the new Intersect project based on the merits of your past work."

"Thank you, General," said Sarah, incredibly grateful.

"Are we?" asked Saunders lightly.

"Excuse me?" replied Beckman.

"Are we really prepared to grant them more freedom? I would strongly discourage that course of action. I believe they should be monitored all the more closely with the new complexity of this version of the Intersect." He smiled up at the General. "I thought that was what we had agreed."

"Not exactly," huffed Beckman. "I agree that this new Intersect project must be handled with extreme care and caution, but these two agents and their asset have proven to be…very capable of handling whatever gets thrown at them." Again, Sarah couldn't believe that it was Beckman who was defending them against Saunders. She felt irrationally angry at the new director of the CIA.

"They are, indeed,' very capable," agreed Saunders amiably. "As I said before, I don't want the Intersect to be running around Los Angeles unchecked. He must be kept on a tight leash."

"His name is Chuck Bartowski and he is not a _dog_," snapped Sarah, amazing herself. Since when did she mouth of to authority figures? _Since Chuck Bartowski_. There was a long, stiff silence in which Sarah drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry for my tone of voice, Director, but I meant what I said."

"Mr. Bartowski is very much human," said Saunders slowly, effectively ignoring her apology, "and therein lies the problem."

--

"You were almost recruited into the CIA while in college at Stanford, were you not, Mr. Bartowski?"

"I told you, Chuck is fine," Chuck said tiredly, leaning back in his chair. After hours of meetings that were just this side of all-out interrogation, his head was pounding and his butt hurt from sitting in this hard wooden chair. "And yes, that is correct."

"What happened?"

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Bryce had already been recruited. When he found out, he thought that I wouldn't make a good agent. He put the answer sheets to a test in my dorm room and then ratted me out to the professor."

There was some hurried whispers between the Congressmen. "So then it is entirely possible that, even then, agent Larkin was planning on sending you the Intersect?"

"What?" said Chuck in astonishment. "No, wait – "

"Mr. Larkin probably wanted you out of the CIA so that, years later, when he sent you the Intersect, he would be sending it to someone outside of the agency. And, when he reconnected with you at a later date, you would both, effectively, be rogue."

For a moment Chuck couldn't even speak. "That is so ludicrous, I don't even know how to respond."

"And yet you don't deny it."

"Of _course_ I deny it! It's completely untrue!"

"And yet, how could you have known agent Larkin's true plan in stealing the Intersect?"

"Look," started Chuck, holding out his hands. "The man got shot. He only sent it to me as a last resort!"

"There is no way we can know that."

Chuck sat back in his seat, exhausted and angry and sick of this whole thing. "Well you all seem fairly okay with making up your minds without using any of the information I've provided. Am I even needed at these meetings?" Where had he gotten the stones to mouth off to a group of Congressmen?

Nobody said anything for a long time, until one of the Senators leaned forward and looked down at Chuck over his glasses. "Perhaps it would be best to take a break and come back tomorrow to discuss more."

"That'd be great," said Chuck glumly. "Absolutely perfect." He stood and all but stormed out of the meeting hall.

--

"What are you saying, Mr. Saunders?" asked Casey somewhat hesitantly.

"Director."

"Excuse me?"

"My title. It's _Director_ Saunders, not Mister." Casey grunted. "I am saying, agent Casey, that Mr. Bartowski might require more protection than the two of you are able to provide."

General Beckman stiffens beside the desk and Casey can't quite contain himself. "We've always protected Chuck with everything we have, sir. It's almost as if you don't trust us to do the job."

Saunders just continued to smile.

Sarah felt like throwing up. She was so angry that her stomach was turning over and she was itching to get her hands on the knives strapped to the inside of her thigh. For one long, wild moment she thought about resigning from the CIA. Turning in her credentials and gun and just…leaving. Getting out of here. Finding an apartment in Ljubljana where no one knew her and just staying there forever.

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she never could. There was no one other than herself and Casey she trusted to protect Chuck.

Slowly returning to the conversation, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. Beckman and Saunders were arguing about something, so she put her hand on Casey's arm. When he turned towards her, she whispered, "We're not going to let this happen, right?"

Casey met her eyes with one of his stony glares. "Not on your life."

She nodded and almost smiled. "Good."

"Agents? Are we interrupting something?" said Beckman, her voice harsh, evidently angry that Saunders was completely running her over.

"No, General. We were just wondering when all this business in DC will be over so we can return to California," said Casey. Sarah glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Since when did Casey verge on disobeying orders? _Since Chuck Bartowski_, she thought wryly. He was having an affect on all of them.

Saunders placed both his hands flat on his desk and said slowly, "You will all stay until we sort out these issues."

Sarah glanced at her watch out of frustration and saw that it was nearly 3 PM. "We have to go get Chuck at the Capitol. The hearing will be finishing up."

"Go ahead," said Saunders calmly, motioning towards the door. "We'll be in contact with you."

--

When Chuck reached the main entryway into the Capitol Building, Casey and Sarah were standing outside in the sun, in suits and aviators. Normally, he would have made a slightly snarky comment about the sunglasses, but he just wasn't in the mood. "I hope to God your meeting was better than mine and you're about to tell me we can go the hell home."

"No can do," said Casey gruffly. "Director Saunders wants us here."

Chuck swore under his breath. "For how long?"

Casey shrugged. "He didn't say. Indefinitely, I guess."

Gaping, Chuck sputtered for a moment before almost yelling, "Are you kidding me? How can you not be bothered by this, Casey?"

"I am bothered," the man snapped back. "You don't think I have a life I want to get back to just as much as you do?"

Chuck paused and frowned. "Casey, I _am_ your life."

Casey grunted. "Sad but true."

Running his hands through his curly hair in frustration, Chuck barely kept a rein on his anger. "They completely ignored me in the hearing today."

"What?" said Sarah, joining the conversation for the first time instead of just hanging in the background.

"They just – they made up all these ridiculous, fake accusations about Bryce and about me and didn't listen to a thing I said." Frustration broke over him like a wave and he really wanted to hit something. Hard. Unfortunately, since they were five feet from the Capitol Building, there were about ten Capitol Policemen within ten yards of them.

Sarah muttered something angrily under her breath. "Sounds a little like our meeting with Saunders," Casey said. "Didn't seem inclined to listen to a word we said. Or what General Beckman said, for that matter. And she outranks him – he isn't even in the army!" He dissolved into angry mutterings as well.

"I don't trust him," said Chuck, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't. If he isn't in the Intersect, then I don't have any information on him. I don't trust him."

"Chuck, drop it," said Sarah dully.

"_Why_, Sarah?" he all but exploded. "How can you not realize that this is incredibly strange and we shouldn't trust him?"

"I'm not saying it's incredibly strange," she said, coming a step closer to him. He could barely see her eyes through her sunglasses. "And I'm not saying you have to like him. I certainly don't. But he's my boss, Chuck, and at the end of the day I have to follow his orders."

Chuck paused for a moment. "I can't help but notice how utterly resentful you just sounded."

Sarah shot him a look. "Just drop it, Chuck."

--

Much later, Chuck sat with his laptop in his hotel room, looking up pictures of Benjamin Saunders on Google and trying to make himself flash like his dad taught him. There weren't that many photos of Saunders online – a few of him accepting awards and a couple of other random ones – but Chuck went over them again and again, hoping for _something_.

It wasn't until some ungodly hour of the morning when Chuck, glancing at a license plate in the back of a family photo showing Saunders and his brother, flashed on something.

The images scattered across his eyelids like a hailstorm of color and light, barely making sense until his mind switched into overdrive and processed all the information just given to him.

Gasping for air as the flash cleared, Chuck just sat in the middle of his hotel bed for a moment, his laptop sitting open in front of him.

"Oh my God," he said quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: **HAPPY CHUCK DAY EVERYONE!!!!** I can't believe it comes back tonight. Aaahhh. FINALLY!!!  
Also, just to clear things up - I have an incredible amount of respect for the US Congress. I worked for the Senate last summer and absolutely loved it. The Congress in my story is completely a work of fiction and, rest assured, there is a _reason_ why they are acting the way they are. Thanks and enjoy!  
This chapter's a little shorter because I needed to move the action along a little. ;)

**Chapter Five**

Every minute from this minute now  
We can do what we like anywhere  
I want so much to open your eyes  
'Cause I need you to look into mine

_Open Your Eyes_ – Snow Patrol

--

Within a minute, Chuck had scrambled to his feet and was flying out the door of his room, across the little hotel living room and to Sarah's door, pounding on it frantically. "Sarah! Wake up, I need to talk to you."

A moment later, Sarah opened the door, her sleep mask pushed up into her ruffled blonde hair and an extremely crabby look on her face. "What the hell do you want to tell me that couldn't wait until morning? Look, Chuck, I know you want to talk to me about what happened, but could we maybe do this after we've all slept a full night?"

"What?" asked Chuck confused. "Oh, no, this has nothing to do with you and me. Well, I mean, it does, but not what you're thinking – "

"Just say it," she said crossly, taking off her sleep mask and sweeping her hair back from her face.

"Saunders has ties to Fulcrum."

She blinked up at him. Slowly, her eyebrows rose and she crossed her arms over her torso. "Look, I know you don't like him very much – "

"This has nothing to do with me not liking him!" Chuck exclaimed. "I _flashed_, Sarah. I flashed on this picture of him and there it was."

"There _what_ was?" Obviously still disbelieving, Chuck could practically feel the tension rolling off of her, and he knew by the set of her shoulders that she wasn't going to give in any time soon.

"When I flashed, I saw a picture of him and Tommy. You remember Tommy, from when we first figured out what Fulcrum was? With Bryce and…" Chuck trailed off, swallowing back the painful memory of his sometimes-friend. He knew immediately that Sarah had thrown up her walls at the mention of Bryce, but before she could open her mouth to argue with him, the other door in their suite opened.

"What in the name of Ronald Reagan are you two doing awake right now? And why the hell are you being so loud?"

"I flashed, Casey!" said Chuck hastily, before Sarah could break in and plant any more seeds of doubt. They _had_ to believe him. "I flashed on a picture of Saunders and saw Saunders and Tommy together when they were younger. They were both in black-ops gear and holding machine guns. They used to be _partners_." Finally getting this off his chest, Chuck took a deep breath for what felt like the first time in hours.

Casey listened in stony silence, taking all of that in and then glancing at Sarah. "You don't believe him?"

Sarah sighed in frustration. "He doesn't like Saunders. At all. He's mad that we're here and he had a bad day. I'm not saying I don't trust him, I'm saying that his judgment of what he saw might be a little biased right now."

"Hi, I'm right here," said Chuck sarcastically. "You can stop talking about me like I'm not in the room."

Sarah shot him a look. "I just think we should all calm down and think this through before doing anything rash."

"What needs to be thought through?" Chuck asked in disbelief. "The brand new director of the CIA used to be partners with a Fulcrum baddie. What isn't perfectly clear about that?!"

"Did it ever occur to you, Chuck, that Tommy might have been a member of the CIA, just like Bryce, before he joined Fulcrum?" she said.

"Do you know that for sure?" Chuck shot back. She didn't have an answer for him. "If you want, we can check that out, but I have a hunch they've wiped all mention of Tommy from every database that exists." Casey grunted and Sarah shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "And how do we know that Tommy wasn't part of Fulcrum _while_ he was in the CIA?"

"Chuck – "

"No, I'm serious. Even if he was in the CIA before he was part of Fulcrum, he still had the same ideologies. Saunders was his _partner_. They had to agree with each other at least to some level! Don't you think that's dangerous?"

"He's been vetted within an inch of his life," said Sarah tiredly. "He's the director of the CIA, Chuck, and even if you don't like him – "

"This isn't about me _not liking him_!" Chuck exploded. "Get that out of your freaking head! And _I'm_ the biased one?"

Sarah just looked at him for a long moment, her gaze unreadable, before letting out a breath and going back into her room. Normally, Chuck would have followed her, but he was too angry and wired right now. He turned to Casey.

"You don't have to believe every word I say. We can double-check the information with Beckman, if you want, just trust me enough to look into it at the very least."

Casey stared him down for a moment, but then glanced over his shoulder. "I think he's right. If she knows about his ties with Tommy and doesn't think it's dangerous, then it's not a problem. If she doesn't know about it…we should check it out, at least."

Sarah had reappeared out of her room, having thrown on a t-shirt and jeans. She crossed her arms again, still looking stony. Chuck turned towards her and said pleadingly, "Trust me, Sarah."

Her blue eyes were indecipherable, but he held her gaze and hoped. Finally, she took a deep breath and then let it out. "Fine." Chuck almost beamed at her, but instead whirled to face Casey again.

"Can you get in touch with Beckman?"

"It's nearly two in the morning, Bartowski," Casey grumbled.

"And this is kind of important," he replied firmly.

"Okay. Fine. On it." Casey grabbed his cell phone and punched in some numbers, turning away to make the call. Chuck glanced over at Sarah, who was sweeping her hair up into a ponytail.

He swallowed, unaccountably nervous. "Thanks for believing me, Sarah."

"I don't completely believe you yet," she said, and his heart plummeted. Then she sighed and straightened, looking up at him with serious blue eyes. "But I trust you, and I trust the Intersect."

After a brief moment, he said quietly, "Thanks."

He stared at her as she looked past him and out the window, her eyes indicating her mind was somewhere far from here. The lights from the street glinted off the studs she hadn't taken out of her ears the night before. Casey spoke in muted tones from his room, but they rose sharply for a moment both Chuck and Sarah looked towards the door.

He came back out, shoulders tense, fingers clenched around his phone. "Couldn't get a hold of her. No one seems to know where she is."

The three of them exchanged looks that seemed to stretch into hours before anyone moved. Casey switched into action mode, taking huge strides into his room and coming back out an instant later dressed in jeans and the white t-shirt he'd worn to sleep. The other difference was that he was strapping a gun to his waistband and tucking it down the back of his jeans, another one going in a shoulder holster he was clipping on.

"I'm gonna go try and find her and tell her in person. I've got pretty high-level clearance, so I should be able to dig up something." He shrugged on a black leather jacket to hide the shoulder holster and turned to Sarah. "In the mean time, I think you two should just stick tight here. Walker, call me if anything goes wrong. If we get separated for some reason or something goes wrong, we'll rendezvous…" he trailed off while thinking.

"How about at the Jefferson Memorial?" piped up Chuck.

"Kinda public, don't you think? It being midsummer and that being a memorial and all," Casey said sarcastically.

Chuck gave him a look. "It's the middle of the night, Casey. Who in their right mind would be there right now?"

After a moment of consideration, Casey acquiesced. "Fair point. All right, I'm out." Sarah nodded to him tersely and then he was out the door.

They were silent, then, for some time. Chuck glanced at Sarah awkwardly a few times, swallowing and watching her. They only betrayal to her anxiousness was her fingers fiddling with the handles of her silver knives.

"So," he began after clearing his throat. "How did the meeting with Saunders and Beckman really go?"

She shot a quick, dark look at him. "Badly, just like we told you. Really badly." He let it drop, sensing her discomfort with the subject, and played nervously with the edge of his shirt. "I almost quit," said Sarah suddenly.

His eyes darted up to her, and she stood there with the air of someone who had just said something they had not intended to say. Her eyes shot to him, and then away again. She tilted her face down, her ponytail falling over one shoulder.

"What do you mean you almost quit?" asked Chuck quietly, in disbelief. "What happened to the whole 'Saunders is my boss, I'm just following orders' thing?"

He saw a muscle in her jaw clench, and then she shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't say it out loud or anything. I just…thought about it for a second."

A short little laugh forced its way through his lips. "You love your job, Sarah. I thought there was nothing that would ever get you away from it."

She raised her gaze to him and, for one wild moment, Chuck thought he could see inside her carefully constructed wall. She seemed open and a little sad, and with one corner of her mouth quirking up into some sort of painful smile, she opened her mouth to say something.

That something, however, was interrupted by a loud – _very _ loud – bang that came from downstairs.

Chuck jumped about a foot in the air, and Sarah instantly snapped to attention. "What was that?!" exclaimed Chuck. "Sarah, please tell me that wasn't a gunshot." That pleading remark was followed by three more loud noises that were unmistakably gunshots.

Whipping out her own gun, Sarah ran and checked that the door was lock before running to the window. Chuck ran to join her, but she held out her hand and motioned for him to stay back. Anxiously shifting from foot to foot, Chuck decided that he didn't really want to stand there and not know anything. "What is it? Can you see anything?"

Sarah's shoulders dropped all of a sudden, as if the air had been pushed from her lungs. "They have Casey." Her voice was hushed, tight.

"_What_?!" cried Chuck, a little too loudly. "They can't have Casey. That – that has to be a mistake. No one ever gets Casey!"

"Well, they have him." Sarah spun away from the window, her gaze intense. "We have to get out of here."

"And go where?"

"We have to – " Sarah broke off, looking very lost for a moment as she stood in the middle of the room, her gun held by a white-knuckled hand. "Damn it," she hissed under her breath.

"Go to the rendezvous?" Chuck asked quietly, hoping that her answer would be something different.

Just as he hoped, her eyes flashed to his face. "Not on your life."

For a moment, he almost smiled, but then another realization shook him. "Wait, does this mean Saunders knows we know? How else would – but why would he – how the hell - "

Sarah's eyes widened and she held up her hand to him to cut off his rambling voice. He obliged instantly, trusting her instincts. Holding up one finger to indicate that he should hold on for a minute, he stayed where he was while she ran back into her room, grabbing some gear and then running back out into the room.

"Sarah – " he began, but she clapped a hand over his mouth.

It wasn't until they were in the hallway with the door shut behind them that she uncovered his mouth.

"Our rooms were bugged?" he asked, dread pooling deep in his gut. She nodded tersely. "Well, at least now you believe me about Saunders, right?"

She didn't say anything, just handed him a gun.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thanks for all the reviews so far! :) I'm desperately trying to finish this story before I leave next week for 5 months without a laptop. AAAGH.

**Chapter Six**

Don't look at me now  
I'm just makin' my play  
Don't try to push your luck,  
Just get out of my way.

_Back in Black_ – AC/DC

--

As they ran down the deserted stairwell (instead of taking the elevators – too slow), Chuck had a moment to wondering, wildly, if Casey was okay. _Are you kidding?_ Even his subconscious was laughing at him. _He probably took out four guys before they took him down. Nah, make that five guys. At least._

Sarah was silent in front of him, the only sound her short, sharp breaths. She held her gun easily as she ran, but Chuck felt like his was on fire in his hand. Even though he'd handled one with Cole Barker and that tranq gun that one time, it still made him incredibly uneasy to have to cool metal in his hand.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sarah stopped Chuck before he was about to push through the heavy double doors. There was screaming coming from the other side of the metal. Their eyes flickered together for a second before Sarah motioned for him to wait and held her gun more tightly, taking a peek between the two doors. Whatever her threat assessment was, she let them through the doors.

The lobby was in an uproar, absolute chaos. People who were just coming home from partying were screaming and yelling frantically into cell phones, hiding behind the cushy chairs in the waiting area. Chuck heard one of the people at the front desk yelling to what he assumed to be the police department on the other end of the line.

There, in the center of the lobby, lay five men, four unconscious and one bleeding all over the place.

Chuck swallowed and pointed at the bodies. "I totally called that."

Sarah shot him a look and knelt by one of the men. She didn't touch him, just inspected as a couple of people turned to look at them.

"We should get out of here," he said quietly and urgently, leaning into Sarah's hair. She nodded almost absently.

"We need to find Nick," she said before standing and striding out the door.

"N-Nick? Who's Nick?" Chuck said, puzzled, before rushing after her.

But Sarah wasn't listening to him. She whipped out her phone and punched in a few numbers. Holding it to her ear for a moment, she then held it back and punched in another few numbers that must have been a safe code. Chuck hovered at her shoulder, anxiously looking up and down the street.

"Nick? This is Sarah. Sarah Walker." A pause. "Yeah, can I meet you soon?" Another pause. "On the Mall is fine, as long as it's soon." Pause. "Okay. Thank you. See you there." She hung up her phone and stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans. Seeming, only then, to realize that she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a gun hanging from her fingers, she hastily tucked it into her jeans as well.

"So…who's Nick?" asked Chuck.

Nick Weis, it turned out, was Sarah's first partner. When she had joined the CIA and finally been cleared for field deployment, her one problem had been that she stood out way too much. Her height, her hair, her beauty – everything made it so that every eye naturally drifted to her.

Nick was the absolute opposite of that, so much so that Chuck couldn't believe it. When they met on the edge of the National Mall under the shadow of the trees and this man started walking towards him, Chuck didn't even _begin_ to suspect he was Nick Weis until the man had stopped in front of them and sharing a quick hug with Sarah.

"Hey, you," he said affectionately. He was medium height, had nondescript features and mousy brown hair. Nothing about him stood out in any way. Next to Sarah, he practically looked like a small, mud-colored rodent. "What's this I hear about you having a problem? The CIA is in an absolute uproar – I've never seen anything like it."

"We are in some trouble," began Sarah. Suddenly remembering, she motioned to Chuck. "Oh, Nick, this is Chuck. He's, um, my partner."

Nick shook Chuck's hand amiably but shot Sarah a skeptical look. "I thought you were partnered with John Casey from the NSA on some super top secret gig in LA?"

"Well, that's the problem. Casey's been kidnapped and we have to find him."

"All right. Who kidnapped him?"

Here, Sarah paused and glanced at Chuck out of the corner of her eye. "Benjamin Saunders, the director of the CIA."

There was a quick pause in which Nick just looked at Sarah, his face blank, before he just nodded and said, "Okay, what do you want to do?"

"Wait, that's it?"

"Excuse me?" said Nick, raising his eyebrows.

"I mean, that's it? You're in, just like that?"

The other man looked at him like he was mentally deranged. "I trust Sarah. If she says Ben Saunders, the director of the very institution I work for, has committed treason by kidnapping an agent of the NSA, I believe her."

"Well, okay then," said Chuck. Sarah quirked a tiny smile at him.

Nick clapped his hands together. "So…shall we?"

"Shall we what? Sorry to always be the one interrupting," said Chuck, "but what exactly are we doing right now?"

Sarah wrapped her hand around his arm. "Nick has a certain talent that I completely lacked when I first joined the CIA. He can disappear more easily than anyone I've ever met in my entire life." She sent a smile Nick's way, and he returned it, nodding a tiny bit to acknowledge her compliment. "So, we're going to hide. And we're going to try and find Casey."

"He's probably in the CIA holding cells underground."

"Underground?" said Chuck.

"Yeah. Very dark and twisty, lots of secret passageways and hidden doors, but top-notch security. This ought to be fun."

Chuck glanced at Sarah, still not entirely confident in their plan of action, but she just looked at him with a steady, blue-eyed gaze and he couldn't help but trust her.

Nick looked around, his brown eyes apparently seeing through the darkness around them. "The Smithsonian metro station should do, I think," he said idly, as if this weren't a life-or-death situation.

They took off across the Mall, and as Chuck looked east he saw the Capitol Building there, gleaming and pale in the darkness. It looked so peaceful and inspiring, he almost couldn't believe that his hearing/interrogation had taken place inside of it. Swallowing something welling up in his throat, he ran after Sarah and Nick.

The metro was empty at this time of night other than a couple of workers and security guards, and a group of people waiting for a train looking like they had just come back from a club. They were dressed up, talking loudly and swaying as they stood.

"Perfect," Nick said under his breath, and held up his hand to keep Chuck and Sarah in their place. As he hurried over toward the group, Sarah reached back and gripped Chuck's arm again, her fingers white knuckled.

Chuck glanced back at her, and when he did, there was a very loud noise behind them. Whipping back around, Chuck saw that one of the drunken partiers had apparently fallen off of the platform and down onto the tracks. Several of the people in the group screamed, and the security guards came running.

"Let's go," said Nick, suddenly at Chuck's shoulder. He jumped, his nerves nearly shooting out of his body.

"Jesus, did you have to do that?" he whispered harshly. Nick just grabbed his free arm and started dragging him into a dark little nook of a passageway that didn't look like anything more than a shadow. "Or that, back there? If you pushed that person – they could have been seriously hurt, you know! Haven't you ever heard of the Third Rail?!"

They were in some small, dark, enclosed space that was so narrow it had Chuck's shoulders rubbing against the walls on either side. He couldn't see Nick in front of him, but he assumed the other man didn't even turn as he said, "We had to get in here without security seeing us. I'm assuming that whatever's happening is more important than any one person." There was a slight pause and Chuck only heard their rapid breathing and footsteps in the absolute pitch black. "Plus, the DC metro has no Third Rail."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"…why do I feel like you're lying to me?"

He felt Sarah's hand on his back and almost jumped. "Just keep moving," she said, her voice hushed.

They walked for what felt like forever in the cramped little space, until Chuck could feel the hair on the back of his head sticking to his neck with sweat. His breathing sounded harsh to his ears, echoing off walls he couldn't see but was running his fingers along as they walked, just to keep his balance in a darkness so black he couldn't see his hands in front of him.

Some time later, he said softly, "Sarah?"

"Yeah?" Her voice whispered from the darkness behind him.

"Just…making sure you're still there," he said, a little embarrassed for needing to ask. He didn't know where they were going and he was blindly following someone he couldn't see but would occasionally tell them to turn left or right and he just had to know she had his back.

"I'm here," she breathed, and he felt her hand, surprisingly gentle, on the small of his back.

At one point, Chuck walked – completely unknowingly – into Nick's back. With a small release of breath, Sarah walked into Chuck's back.

"Why did we stop?" Sarah inched past Chuck, pressing him back into the wall to get by him. Now Chuck was very, very aware of the complete darkness behind him, and what could possibly be hiding there without his knowledge. He swallowed.

"Noises through the walls," said Nick.

"Where are we?"

"In between the walls of the holding cells. It sounds like…someone is being interrogated in this one." There was a small tapping noise to Chuck's left and he assumed Nick was touching the wall, indicating the cell in which the interrogation was happening. He swallowed uneasily.

There was a slight rustle of clothing and he felt Sarah lean closer to the wall. "Does that…Chuck, does that sound like General Beckman?" Her tone was disbelieving, but Chuck instantly took her seriously.

Leaning closer to the wall to his left and feeling a tiny trickle of water run across his fingers, he pressed his ear to the wall and listened, hard. It was difficult to make out, but there it was, a female voice barking out a series of numbers. " – five zero one, three three seven five! Release me this instant!" the voice finished, the darkness around Chuck filled with color and images as his mind bent.

Stumbling back a little and feeling Sarah grab his arm, he said, "Yep, that's Beckman all right. The – " He'd been about to say that the Intersect recognized both Beckman's voice and her security pass code, but just in time it occurred to him that Nick didn't know about the Intersect. He cleared his throat. "I'd recognize her voice anywhere. And she's not happy." Sarah squeezed his arm. "Why would the NSA be holding her?"

"Either she stumbled on something that led her to realize Saunders is up to no good, or they just grabbed her as a precaution," whispered Sarah.

"Are we gonna bust her out?" asked Chuck hesitantly.

She squeezed his arm again. "Do you…know of a way into her cell?"

In other words, had he flashed? "No."

"Then we have to keep going, get Casey and then come back once we figure out what's going on."

Swallowing, Chuck nodded and then realized she couldn't see him. "Yeah. Okay." He heard the others begin to move, but didn't move, something suddenly occurring to him. "Wait, hold on a second. There's a question we haven't answered yet."

"What is it?" Sarah's voice grew closer to his.

"Why did they take Casey? And why did they risk a public kidnapping in the lobby of a hotel?"

Silence. Then, Nick spoke. "Hm. You're right. That is odd."

"Saunders was coming for you, Chuck," Sarah said in the darkness, revelation heavy in her voice. "He sent men to get you, but Casey appeared in the lobby and recognized them as agents. He must have tried to stop them, and all they could do after the scene he caused was to grab him and get out of there. Saunders fumbled your kidnapping, Chuck." The pieces clicked together in Chuck's mind.

"He's trying to clean up the – our project," he said, and was unsettled to know just how close he had come to being in one of the very cells they were now next to. "Tying up loose ends. Erasing us."

There was a brief pause before anyone spoke again. "We have to get to Casey," said Sarah softly. "He won't appear essential to them – who knows what they're doing to him."

"But how do we know where he's being held?" asked Chuck, feeling panic building in his chest. If Saunders had only taken Casey as a mistake, it was likely he would just kill the Colonel to get him out of the way. "We have to get there fast."

"Leave that to me," came Nick's quiet reply. Even before the end of the sentence, his voice was receding.

"Should we help?" asked Chuck.

"No, you don't want to be part of this." Sarah made an odd little humming noise in her throat at Nick's comment. Then they are left in darkness and silence.

In just minutes, there were faint footsteps that made both Sarah and Chuck tense instantly. "It's just me," Nick said from a ways down the pitch black passageway.

"What did you do?" asked Chuck tentatively. Nick had been right – for all that he was equipped with this new Intersect and capable of all these new things, he still wasn't very comfortable with violence.

"Knocked out an agent, stole his phone and made a few requests for information regarding the prisoner." There was a smug smile in Nick's voice. "He's being held in the next block over, in cell 3285."

"Nick – " said Sarah, but stopped short when she realized her voice was much too loud for the small space they were in. "This…mission we're on is incredibly top secret. I appreciate everything you've done for us, but only Chuck and I can go on from here."

There was a short silence. "All right. I can give you directions, then."

"How do you know all of these passage ways so well?" asked Chuck, suddenly curious.

A tiny noise like cloth scraping against cement meant that Nick had shrugged his shoulders. "I like to poke around the city on my days off." There was the smug smile in his voice again.

He quickly relayed the information to them, said goodbye and wished them luck and then faded into the darkness, back the way they had come.

Sarah's breath came quick on his shoulder. "You still have your gun?"

Swallowing, he replied, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Okay. Let's go get the Colonel."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: So...I think this is my least favorite chapter so far, but I'm trying desperately to finish the story, so whatever. Hope you like it!

**Chapter Seven**

I never though I could love anyone  
but myself.  
Now I know I can't love anyone  
but you.

_Die Alone_ – Ingrid Michaelson

--

They took off at a slow jog, both itching to go faster but unable to do so in the complete darkness that surrounded them. With their hands brushing the tight walls on either side of them, they moved as quickly as they could without tripping or running into each other. Their harsh breathing echoed dully around them.

A million thoughts were running through Chuck's head. How were they going to find the correct cell in all of this dark mess underground? How were they going to get out again if or when they got Casey out? What if Casey was already dead? What if they all died down here? Would Ellie and Morgan ever know, or would it be like they all just disappeared? Like they'd never existed?

"Turn left here," Sarah said, and he heard her move to the passage to their left. Her words, however, send his brain into overdrive. The Intersect kicks into gear and he stumbles against one wall. The images that flash in front of his eyelids are of schematics, blueprints, a floor plan.

"Chuck?" came Sarah's somewhat anxious voice. "Are you okay?" Her footsteps came back towards him and then he felt her standing just in front of him. Something brushed his forearm but he must have imagined it.

"I just flashed. We have to turn right here."

He could practically _feel_ the frown in her voice. "But Nick said to go left after we passed that broken steam vent two meters back."

"Well, the Intersect says to go right." Chuck tapped his finger to the side of his head, but then remembered that there was no way Sarah could see him. It was rather disconcerting to have an argument with someone you couldn't see. He didn't know where to focus his eyes.

"Nick said to go left," Sarah repeated stubbornly.

"Just earlier tonight you said you trusted the Intersect, Sarah!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "Why is it you have such trouble giving up even the slightest bit of control?" She didn't answer, but he could feel tension rolling off of her. "Look. I know you're mad at me. I don't know _why_ you're mad at me, but I know you are. But that doesn't matter right now. Right now, we have to find Casey. And the Intersect knows how to do that. So be angry at me later. For now, you have to trust the Intersect!" his voice was a heated whisper, and he wished desperately he could see her, see her reaction. For all he knew, she had disappeared and left him in the darkness.

After what felt like the longest minute of Chuck's life, Sarah responded. _Oh, good, she's still there._ "I am mad at you."

"I know."

"But you don't know why." This was bad. Chuck could hear the anger rising in her voice.

"N-no," he said hesitantly, wondering if they were really about to get into this right here.

"All right. Fine." Her voice was a hard, furious whisper now and she stepped closer to him. "You want to know why I'm mad at you? I'm mad because I was so ready to stop being a spy and be a normal person. I am so sick of being all these people who don't exist, so sick of knife wounds, of having to shut out people I care about." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "At Ellie's wedding, I was ready to quit the CIA. More than ready. And you," At this, her hand whipped out of nowhere and struck him in the chest.

"Ow!" he said, voice rising quite decidedly above a whisper.

"You stupid, idiotic moron. You put the fucking Intersect back in your fucking head. I – I've never wanted to punch you as much as I did then." Another breath, but now she was on a roll, her voice filling with more and more rage, her breath hot on his neck. "I wanted a normal life with you, and you _blew it._ You stupid, noble, selfless _idiot_."

Her voice broke then, and her anger seemed to deflate. Chuck felt like the floor was bending underneath his feet.

"That's why you were angry?"

She released a breath. "Yes."

"Because I was stupid?"

A choked sort of noise that resembled a cut off chuckle reached his ears. "Yeah."

After a moment, he said, "God, I want so much to kiss you right now."

That time, it really was a breathy laugh that escaped her lips. "Now's not really the time."

"Right."

"Besides, you'd probably miss in the dark."

"Probably true."

"Later."

The word was much softer, and it filled Chuck's chest with this unbearably, achingly sweet feeling that almost pushed up into his throat. "Right. Because now we have to save Casey's ass."

"Let's go." She reached for his hand, fumbling a little, and dragged him forward again, turning right this time.

Some countless number of twists and turns later, Sarah halted suddenly in front of him, so quickly that he bumped into her back.

"What is it?" he whispered into her hair, adrenaline spiking through his system and sending his heart off like a galloping horse.

"I just stepped on a really big pipe," was her reply.

"The pipeline Nick told us about?"

"Yeah."

"So Casey's cell is…" he felt along the wall, following the pipe from the ground up. If he stood on his toes, he could feel the cold steel of the ventilation shaft over their heads. "Here's the vent."

"Casey's cell should be just to the left once we get up into the vent." He heard her moving around a bit. "Here. I'm half-kneeling right now. Stand on my thigh and open the vent. Then pull yourself up."

Chuck didn't have time to worry if he would be too heavy. After a few fumbling moments, he pushed himself off of her braced thigh and reached up towards the vent. After some more agonizing fumbling, he managed to twist off the bolts and push back a plate of the vent. With Sarah's help – she pushed his foot once he started – he hauled himself up into the vent, which was thankfully somewhat wider than he had imagined. Also, there was light there, bleeding in from a vent somewhere down the line.

Once he was in, he somehow managed to twist his lanky body around to help pull Sarah up. It was awkward and kind of painful, but once she got up there it was okay. Both panting, they lay flat on their stomachs and stared at each other, now able to see in the dull light.

"Okay," said Sarah. "You're in front, so get to the cell and figure out if any of the guards are inside the cell itself. If there are people there, tap your toe once. If not, do it twice. Don't go into the cell until I squeeze your ankle."

"Got it."

What felt like minutes of achingly slow, kind of painful crawling, Chuck was practically lying on top of what the Intersect told him was Casey's cell. Listening very, very carefully, Chuck couldn't make out any noise whatsoever from within the cell. He tapped his right toe once. Sarah squeezed his ankle almost immediately, apparently chafing at not being in the lead, and he began to unscrew a panel of the ventilation shaft, because there was no vent visible in the metal.

The one thing he hadn't thought through so well was the fact that, once he pushed the screws through, the metal panel would fall to the cement floor.

The resulting _bang_ was so loud it made Chuck's jaw clench until his teeth ground together. Sarah squeezed his ankle again, but this time it was incredibly hard, her nails practically digging into his skin.

Then a head popped into view down in the cell.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Casey sat on the floor, hands bound behind his back, the greenish light of the cell making him appear much older and very sick. His nose looked broken, he had a whopping black eye and there was blood trickling down from his mouth.

Chuck's answer was stopped by a flash which, in an instant, had him doing some sort of gymnastics-esque flip out of the vent. Landing easily on the floor, Chuck straightened.

"My name is Chuck Bartowski, and I'm here to rescue you."

Casey gave him a confused, aggravated look and Sarah landed on the floor beside him. Before she could speak, two guards burst into the room, obviously looking for the source of the unbelievably loud noise a moment ago. There was something strange in their eyes as they found two extra people in the cell where they had left only one person, something Chuck couldn't quite place.

In an instant, the Intersect kicked into gear for what felt like the millionth time that night – there was a headache drumming in his temples – and he took out the guards with a number of moves that stretched both his pounding head and his untrained muscles. When his vision cleared, the two guards were lying unconscious on the floor.

"Nice," said Casey appreciatively as Sarah whipped out a knife from who knows where and cut his bonds. He struggled a lit to stand up, leaning heavily enough on Sarah that she sent Chuck a slightly panicked look.

"You okay?" asked Chuck, glancing over his shoulder from his position near the door. There had only been two guards? I guess they didn't find Colonel Casey much of a threat.

Casey grunted, but it was a painful, air-expelled-from-the-lungs sort of grunt. "A few broken ribs, I think. It took a few of them to get me into the van."

"We saw the bodies," said Chuck with a wry smile.

"Okay, enough chit-chat. We need to get out of here. Chuck?" Her blue eyes were intense and expectant as they looked at him. "You flashed on the schematics, right?"

"Yeah. If we can make it to – "

Before he finished that sentence, an alarm sounds in the distance, echoing off of the cement walls of the corridor, and the heavy steel door slams shut.

For a second, none of them can say anything.

"A trap," Casey said eventually, quietly dumbfounded. "A freaking trap. And I was the bait."

Breaking free from his shocked stupor, Chuck ran to the door and pounded on it. He already knew it was futile, but hitting his fists against the heavy metal somehow made him feel a tiny bit better. "There's no way to open this," said Chuck, turning to face Casey and Sarah. Suddenly a realization hit him. "The guards – they knew we would be in here. They weren't surprised to see me and Sarah in the cell…this _was_ all a trap."

Sarah and Casey both swore rather colorfully. "Now what? How do we get out of here?"

Sarah furrowed her brow and bit the corner of her lip. "You're not flashing, Chuck?"

Frowning intensely and trying to make his brain flash like his father had taught him, all Chuck succeeded in doing was giving himself a headache. "No, nothing," he practically yelled, panic rising in his throat, the bitter taste of adrenaline sharp on his tongue.

Then, suddenly, an idea popped into his head. "Sarah, we crossed a water pipeline when we were sneaking in here, right?"

"Yes. Why, did you flash?"

"No, this is just me." Eyes flickering all over the cell, Chuck thought very, very quickly. "The door is practically airtight, right?"

"Yeah, all NSA holding cells seal completely, except for the air vents," grumbled Casey, obviously still annoyed at being kept prisoner by his own organization. "And they're too high up reach from the ground."

"Exactly," said Chuck, beginning to get excited, though adrenaline was pumping through his veins almost to the point of making him dizzy. "If we burst the water main, it'll fill the cell and we can float up to the air vent and then get out through the passages."

Casey stared at him and then gave him a despairing look. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Chuck," said Sarah slowly. "It's too risky. We have to think of something else."

"Well, we have to get out of here, the guards are probably on their way right now!" he exclaimed. After a second, he took his gun from where he'd put it in his belt and struck the handle against a pipe on the wall, hard. Harder than he thought he was capable of.

The place he hit, where two pieces of the metal were fused together, burst with a huge spray of water. Sarah gave a little, surprised shriek and Casey an outraged grunt, as water flooded the cell. In a mater of seconds, the water was up to their ankles. In minutes, up to their knees.

"Well, this is working surprisingly well," said Chuck with mild astonishment. Soaking wet and sputtering, Sarah glared at him underneath her dripping bangs.

"I guess we're going with your plan," she yelled over the noise of the water.

Soon they were floundering in deep water, their feet barely touching the ground. Chuck went to Casey, helping him stay afloat when it was obviously hard for him, though he'd never admit it. Sarah was ducking underwater, then pushing herself up violently from the ground to try and reach the vents.

After a few tries, while gasping for air under the spray of the icy water, Sarah managed to get to the place in the vent she and Chuck had climbed down through. She was holding on with her fingertips and trying not to slip. Tossing her head to fling her wet hair out of her face, she yelled to the others, "Casey first, because he's injured!"

"No," yelled Chuck, "You go first!"

"Chuck, this isn't the time for chivalry," Sarah spat.

"No, I'm thinking logically. If you go first, you can pull Casey up while I push!"

Glaring at him, she hauled herself up into the vent and then contorted herself to turn and help Casey up. Chuck took a deep breath and ducked underwater to push the Colonel up towards Sarah. After a minute of struggling, Chuck's head popped above the water and he kicked his feet furiously and pushing Casey's legs up and into the vent. By then he was floating nearly to the vent himself, his wet curls practically brushing the metal.

"Come on, Chuck!" yelled Sarah from inside the vent. Chuck stuck his head up into the space and saw her face over Casey's shoulder, pinched with panic and anger. "We have to get out of here before the vent starts filling with water too!"

Already, water was pressing on the metal, hissing and popping through gaps in the vent. Looking at the bursting water and then back at Sarah and Casey, Chuck came to a decision.

"Go," he said.

"What?" shrieked Sarah.

Chuck knew that the vent was weakened by the water and if he climbed up there with the other two people resting on the surface, the metal would buckle and break under their weight. And even if it held, the water was rising too quickly. They would never all get out in time.

Giving Sarah and Casey one last look, he took a deep, deep breath and dove under the water. Sarah's yell was drowned out as he dove. Resting heavily on the floor was the missing panel of the vent, the one they had pushed open to get into the cell. Pushing off the bottom, he shot to the vent, which was now almost underwater.

Ignoring Sarah's screams and Casey's yells with something odd and shuddering in his heart, he pushed the panel up as hard as he could, wedging it tightly in the vent. Their yells were cut off, and now Chuck could only hear the water rushing in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Thanks for all the fantastic response to this story - I'm still trying desperately to finish and post it before I leave!!!  
Also, I used a line from _Bones_ in here (which I DO NOT own). :)

**Chapter Eight**

Ouch, I have lost myself again  
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,  
Yeah, I think that I might break.

_Breathe Me_ – Sia

--

Sarah was screaming, struggling, beating Casey with her fists. "Let me go! For God's sake, Casey! CHUCK! _CHUCK_!"

Casey was blocking her from pushing past him, back to the panel Chuck had wedged in place, and unsettling weakness pounding in his chest. That stupid geek – Chuck – the Intersect…his couldn't lace his thoughts together. All he could hear was Sarah screaming behind him and the water pushing through the cracks of the vent. The metal below them was covered in an inch of water and it was rising quickly.

"We have to go, Walker," he heard himself say, his voice sounding distant to his own ears, and began pushing on her legs. When all she did was aim a punch at his already sore shoulder, he lost his temper. "Walker, if we don't get out of here, we're going to drown and then what Chuck did will be for nothing."

She looked at him with wild, unseeing eyes, dripping wet and out of her mind with fear and anger. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about, Casey? We have to go back and get him!"

"No, we have to get out of here alive," Casey yelled over the sound of the water. He took her shins and pushed, hard. She slid forward on the slick metal, looking at him in angry disbelief.

"How can you just leave him?" she yelled. The water was now lapping around his elbow as he lay there.

"We have to get out, we have to get Beckman and we have to _fix this_," growled Casey, his gut twisting at the thought of leaving Chuck behind. Still, it had to be done. John Casey was nothing if not a survivor. "We. Have. To. Go." He pushed her again and when she stopped, there was a sort of dull, empty look in her red-rimmed eyes.

Without a word, she turned onto her stomach and began crawling as fast as she could down the vent. Casey paused for a moment, wrestling with his conscience yet again. It wasn't until there was an incredibly loud _bang_ behind him that he sprang into motion, racing after Walker on his elbows.

Some ways down the vent, after countless twists and turns he could barely keep track of, he found Sarah undoing the screws on another vent panel and shoving the metal down into an empty cell. He was going to question her, but looking at her face he thought that this time, he might as well just have her back and not question her unless she did something really stupid.

She flung herself down into the vent and he followed. When he landed, she was already kicking the door, which was unlocked on account of the empty cell, open and rushing out into the hallway. Lit by dirty greenish yellow lights, the hall was empty except for a few guards, who Sarah took out before Casey could get into the fight to help.

He watched her in the instants it took her to take down the guards as if underwater. Her face was contorted fiercely, her teeth bared, angry grunts tearing out from her throat as she felled one man with a sharp roundhouse kick. There was a fury driving her actions that wasn't hard for Casey to guess.

One of them got in a lucky punch, throwing Sarah back into the wall with the force, and for a second she just stood there, blood dripping from her cheek, looking stunned. Casey punched the guy in the stomach and then gave him a knee to the face, making him drop like a stone.

"Thanks," she said quietly, panting. Touching her cheek gingerly, she winced. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Looked pretty attentive to me," said Casey. His fingers twitched lightly, itching desperately for a gun. The guards had taken his from him, obviously, and he wanted it back at some point. It was a favorite of his.

Sarah was shaking her head, looking dazedly at the floor. "No. I think my eyes were glazed over the entire time." Casey watched her closely and saw the air leave her lungs like she had just been punched in the stomach. Raising a shaking hand to her mouth, she leaned on her knee with one arm. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

And she was. Watching her retching up water and bile on the ground, Casey didn't make a move to comfort her. There was a weird aching in his chest as he looked at her, but there was no way he was going to show pity for her. Not that she'd let him, either.

When she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a few deep breaths before standing up.

"Ready?" asked Casey.

Nodding, Sarah set her mouth in a grim line and looked at him. "Let's go get Beckman."

"You know where to find her?"

"We passed her cell on the way to yours, but it was pitch black in the tunnels and I wouldn't know the route from here."

Casey smiled grimly. "Well then let's find someone to talk to."

It was about five minutes later when they came upon an unsuspecting guard. Sarah went for him, but Casey pulled her back, practically throwing her behind him, and went for the guy himself. It wasn't that he was worried for her safety – come on, now – but more than he wanted some action himself. He didn't take to being held prisoner. His muscles needed to be used after being tied up for hours.

When Casey fought, it wasn't as if the world slowed and he was able to see each move his opponent made and then block or hit accordingly. It was more like the world sped up and his mind was slower to react than his body. Everything was fierce, innate instinct.

In second, the guy was on the floor, but not unconscious. Casey grabbed his collars and hauled the man off the ground a little, but his head rolled to one side, his mouth open and bleeding. "Where is General Beckman's cell?" When he didn't get an answer, he shook the man, hard, making his head snap back and forth.

"Casey," said Sarah in a warning voice.

"You know kidnapping an agent with the National Security Administration is considered sedition, right? And kidnapping a General…well, let's just say you're your future doesn't look too bright right now."

"I didn't do anything!" the man slurred, starting to panic and struggle a little. "I'm just a guard!"

"If you tell us where she's being kept, we'll be sure that gets taken into account during your trial," said Sarah. Casey turned and shot her a glare over his shoulder. She shrugged.

"General Beckman. Where is she?"

The man swallowed. "Cell 3147. Take two lefts, a right and then another left and you'll be there. It's heavily guarded."

Casey let the man drop to the ground. "Thanks," said Sarah before running after him.

"You're thanking a treasonous NSA security guard?" growled Casey as they ran.

"You really think that kid had anything to do with the actual kidnapping?" she yelled back over the sound of their pounding feet. "He was just following orders."

"No excuse," grunted Casey in return.

They were there in minutes, and without any sort of plan, they ran at the mass of guards. In his head, Casey knew it was stupid to just attack like this. In his heart, he was thrilled at the possibility of a serious fight where he and others might obtain serious or life-threatening injuries.

The world was a blur of feet and arms and faces as they though. Casey saw Sarah twirl and kick and smash the butt of her gun into the face of a guard. Again she was fighting with that all-consuming ferociousness that made her blind to the world, and as he kept an eye on her while head-butting one of the guards himself, he saw another guard land a kick in her ribs that was sure the crack a rib or two.

She staggered back, one arm wrapping around her torso, again looking stunned that she had been hit. She didn't notice the man coming in for more. Throwing himself in her direction, Casey kicked the man in the groin and then the face, sending him flying.

All of a sudden, they were alone in the hallway, surrounded by unconscious bodies. "Snap _out of it_, Walker. We have to get out of here alive, and the way you're going now, I'm not sure you'll make it."

"Right." Her voice was distant, dazed. "I know. I know."

"Walker," he growled warningly.

"I _know_," she said, snapping back to attention and meeting his eyes sharply before dropping her head. "I just…can't believe…"

"I know," Casey said, this time his voice gruff but much softer.

Not looking at him, she pushed herself off the wall and began searching the men for keys. They quickly found them and unlocked the door.

General Beckman was seated on a chair, her hands tied behind her, an expectant look on her face.

"Took you long enough," she said briskly.

Sarah felt a jolt of surprise, but Casey just chuckled quietly and went to cut the ties holding his boss in place. "Sorry, General, we got a little held up when I was kidnapped as well."

Her sharp eyes assessed his wounds and she hummed in a thoughtful way as she stood and rubbed her wrists. "Well, I suppose Saunders is trying to clean up this mess as we speak. He really bungled it, and – "

"Chuck is dead," said Sarah suddenly, the words seemingly ripped out of her throat.

The General went still and then slowly rotated to look at Casey. "Is this true?" she said quietly, after one moment.

Casey considered the words and, for the first time, truly felt the weight of them. He had to clear his throat before he spoke. "Yes, ma'am, that is true. The asset was killed a short time ago. He sacrificed himself to secure our escape."

For a while nobody said anything. Then the General nodded and said, "He will be honored accordingly." Casey could feel Sarah's hackles going up, but he gripped her arm tightly and she kept her mouth shut. "Now, we have to get out of here before any more trouble arises."

"Where do we go?"

The General raised an eyebrow at him. "I know places inside NSA headquarters you've never seen, Colonel."

--

The walk, or run, to the secure room, felt like an eternity to Sarah. Or the blink of an eye. She couldn't decide.

She was pretty sure Casey took out two guards with only his fists and feet while she was three paces behind, her gaze blank and unfocused. She barely saw it – just blurs and noises. It felt like nothing would be in focus again.

There was the General in front of them, and Casey right behind her, his broad frame almost blocking the tiny woman from Sarah's view. There was a dull light flickering on the wall to her right and a thin skin of water on the grimy cement floor beneath her feet. There was the dripping of her hair next to her ear and the aching, empty thud of her heart echoing in her chest.

It was impossible. It was impossible, wasn't it? Chuck couldn't be dead. That was just…impossible.

Of course, it wasn't impossible. When he'd chosen to put the Intersect back in his head, to become a real spy, it had been one of the things that had sent her into a panic. He could _die_ if he were a real spy, because she wouldn't be there to protect him. But for some reason that hadn't seemed as important as the fact that he could _lose_ himself…lose himself in the metaphorical sense. Lose his humor and his goodness and his clueless charm and everything that made her so stupidly, wildly in love with him. Crazy, stupid, over-the-moon in love with him. Lose himself metaphorically.

That had been was consumed her mind and made her so furiously, idiotically angry at him. It hadn't been on her radar in months that he could…die.

And he was dead.

It wasn't until they stopped running and seemed to be in some sort of a brightly lit room with no windows and the General was saying something that Sarah realized she wasn't breathing too well. She leaned against a wall and braced her hands on her knees, gasping for air that never seemed to get deep enough in her lungs.

"Walker? You need a medic?"

She couldn't respond. There was something blocking her throat.

"Walker?" This time Casey's voice was much closer, and much softer. He didn't touch her, but his large, solid presence next to her was unmistakable. "You okay?"

After a minute of calming her heart rate just the way she had been taught, Sarah straightened again. The General was looking at her with a steady gaze.

"All right. If you don't require medical attention, then we can get to work on bringing down Saunders."

"What about Chuck?" asked Sarah dully.

"What about him? He's gone – there's nothing we can do for him except make his sacrifice worthwhile by bringing down the man who put him in that situation."

Some sort of pit opened up beneath Sarah's feet. She felt wildly dizzy, as if her eyes couldn't focus on a single object. "That's it?"

"What more do you want, Walker? He's gone."

The pit was an abyss, gaping and wailing and deep, and right underneath Sarah's feet. She felt her heart racing, adrenaline making her limbs tremble. "That's not good enough."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're not my boss, General, but you've been as good as for the past year and a half." Ripping off her badge, Sarah threw it on the ground. "And I quit."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

And I could write a song,  
A hundred miles long.  
Well, that's where I belong,  
And you belong with me.

And I could write it down,  
Or spread it all around  
Get lost and then get found  
And you'll come back to me  
Not swallowed in the sea.

_Swallowed in the Sea_ – Coldplay

--

There was no ground underneath Sarah's feet as she walked out of the NSA building or wherever it was they were. It was barely morning. The sun was just peeking up behind the Capitol Building to the east, rosy pink in the sprinkling of clouds in the sky.

It felt unbelievably strange to be above ground again, to be out in this place where no one knew what had just happened, what had happened since last night.

She didn't know where she was going, but she walked.

As it happened, she ended up on the National Mall. It had never been a favorite place of hers when she'd lived in DC – too many joggers and tourists – but right now it was pretty much empty. And kind of peaceful. There was a robin singing in a nearby tree.

She sank down onto a bench, her clothes still heavily damp and sticking to her skin. Feeling boneless and exhausted, both mentally and physically, Sarah just sat there, staring in front of her and working on drawing in breath after breath. She was just so tired.

It felt like there was a huge, gaping, sucking wound in her chest. The air she breathed wasn't reaching her lungs, it was escaping through the hole. Her heart wasn't beating, it was just pumping blood straight out of her body.

And the weirdest thoughts kept running through her head. Memories.

--

_He's sitting there in front of her with this look on his face that makes her want to…she doesn't know what, but surprisingly none of the urges she has are violent. "I just wish I knew something real about you," he's saying. "Can't you just tell me just one true thing? Just.. just one thing, like.. like where did you grow up? Or...or if that's too much, I get it. I get it if that's too much. Or what's your name? What's your real name?"_

_She says nothing, fingernails digging into her palm._

_His huge, hazel eyes are sad and it feels like someone has stabbed her and twisted the knife. "Middle name. What's your middle name? Can't you just tell me your middle name?"_

_Still, she says nothing. But it's a struggle, and not a struggle she's used to. Why in the world does she want to tell this man, whom she barely knows, everything about herself?_

_He sighs as he looks at her and she can see him admitting defeat. "I'm gonna go and get the napkins."_

_He walks away, and something makes her whisper, "Lisa. My middle name is Lisa."_

--

"_Sarah," he said, "you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me." The bottom of her stomach dropped out. "You're beautiful, you're smart, you laugh at all of my stupid jokes and you have this horrible habit of constantly saving my life."_

_She couldn't help but laugh. He just…there were no words for this man. As he always does, he keeps talking. And she just looks at him, soaking him in._

"_The truth is, you're everything that I thought I ever wanted and more. And the last few days all I could think about is our future together. About what it's going to be like once I get the Intersect out of my head and we can be together for real, no fake relationship, no covers, no lies." Her stomach has disappeared at this point. WHY does she want that life so much? _

"_But the more I think about it, the more I realize that you and I can never have a future together. I fooled myself into thinking that we could but the truth is we can't." Slowly, painfully, she realizes where this conversation is going. "Because even if we had a real relationship, it'd never really be real. I still won't know anything about you, your real name, your hometown, your first love, anything. And I want more than that. I want to be able to call you at the end of a bad day and tell you about some funny thing Morgan did but I can't cause you'll be somewhere in Paraguay quelling a revolution with a fork." She gives a sad, almost-breath of a laugh. He has endless faith in her abilities, but at this moment in time she feels like there's nothing she is capable of. _

"_I'm a normal guy who wants a normal life. And as amazing as you are, Sarah Walker, we both know that you will never be normal."_

--

"_Okay. Fine. I'll answer one question about my past. You've learned that much." As much as she fought him wanting to know anything about the person she used to be, there's a sort of thrill in her stomach when she thinks that she might, for the first time, share something with someone. And that that someone might be _him.

_He pauses, hums, and then says, "No thanks."_

_A strange, warm feeling quickly spreads through her body, but he's still talking. "I don't need to know more – not about who you were. 'Cause as much as you don't think so, I know who you are."_

_There's that warm feeling again, taking off like wildfire through her veins. She feels a smile spreading across her lips._

"_A girl I'd like to share a cheeseburger with," he finishes, grinning at her. She can't help but laugh._

--

"_Oh, Chuck, I can't take this. This is something real, something you should give to a real girlfriend."_

"_I know."_

--

"_It is real."_

_--_

"_I don't want to save the world, Chuck – "_

_--_

"Hey, miss, are you okay?"

Sarah snapped out of her reverie with a zing of adrenaline, taking account of her immediate surroundings within seconds. There was a man in front of her, about 18 inches away, with some sort of device on his arm and she could take him down with two hit to the –

Oh. He was a jogger. There was an iPod armband around his bicep and he was looking down at her with intense concern in his eyes.

"Excuse me?" she said, and realized her voice was raspy. She lifted a hand to her cheek and found it wet, tears unknowingly dripping down her face. "Oh, I…yeah, I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, but she forced something that might have been a smile on her face and he nodded. Putting his headphones back on, he continues jogging down the Mall.

Wiping her face hastily, violently, Sarah looked around and saw more people beginning to take early morning jogs. It was brisk for a summer morning, low humidity and pale sunlight. She sniffed and clasped her hands in front of her.

What now?

What was she going to do, now that she had quit the CIA? Not officially, anyway, because it was true that Beckman wasn't her boss. But she sure as hell wasn't answering to Saunders, so this would have to do.

But what was life without her job? What was life without the purpose of protecting something larger than herself? What the hell was she supposed to do now?

She sat there, pondering that and wondering other stupid things too. What would Ellie and Devon and Morgan be told? Devon knew about Chuck and Sarah and Casey being spies, but Ellie? Or Chuck's best friend? It was something strange to admit to herself, but while life without Chuck was one thing, she didn't want to lose Ellie or Devon either. Maybe Morgan. Maybe not. But these were people she had grown to…love. That was the word.

She made a promise to herself right then on that bench that she would tell Ellie the truth.

The sun was up in the sky when he came. It was bright and warm above the Capitol Dome, and her body was starting to feel something approaching warmth. Then, all of a sudden, there was a shadow cast over her. She barely reacted, just tilted her head back and looked up.

Colonel John Casey stood over her, arms crossed and his usual fierce, disgruntled look on his face.

"What do you want?" Her voice was still ragged.

"You're needed at headquarters."

"Excuse me?"

"Headquarters. Now. You're needed."

She frowned, squinting her eyes against the glare of the sun and stared out across the Mall. "You must have missed the part earlier when I said I quit."

"Yeah, I heard," he growled. "But you're needed."

"Why?" she asked dully.

"Can't say until you get there."

"No."

"Walker – "

"Casey, I don't have it in me to fight anymore," she said tiredly, the words ringing true through her entire body as they left her lips. "I just don't."

"I'm thinking you'll find a little more."

She squinted up at him. "Yeah? Why the hell should I ever go back there?"

He didn't answer for a minute. Then he crouched down in front of her as she sat bleakly on the bench and frowned at her fiercely. "You trust me?"

There was something strange in his tone. She frowned right back at him. "Yes."

He stood. "Then come with me." Holding out his hand, he waited.

She continued to frown at him for a solid minute before accepting his hand.

--

They were somewhere deep in NSA headquarters, which was buzzing with activity, even at this early hour, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

"I can't believe I'm back here already," she said, every cell in her body rebelling against being inside this building again.

"Yeah, you suck at quitting," said Casey. She glared at him and he smirked.

She was still glaring at him when they walked back into the secure room. Sarah turned to give Beckman a serious piece of her mind when –

There was another man standing there, over six feet tall and dripping wet. With curly brown hair. And a huge smile.

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Without thinking, she ran and threw herself at him, running into him so hard he took a few staggering steps backwards.

"Hey, whoa, easy there," said Chuck, his voice warm and _alive_ in her ear.

"Shut up," she snapped, wrapping her arms so tightly around him they ached. Her hand buried itself in his curly hair, cupping the back of his neck and squeezing. "Just shut up for a second." He did, going still and just holding her.

She released him rather violently, shoving him away from her and then punching him in the shoulder, _hard_.

"Ow!" he yelled, happiness turning to confusion on his face.

"You stupid, idiotic, _brain dead_…idiot!" she practically screamed, eyes stinging with the effort it took not to cry. Her voice cracked. "That was the absolute stupidest thing you have ever done in a long list of incredibly, _unbelievably_ stupid things!"

"Hey, I thought I was saving you and Casey!" he cried defensively, holding up his hands. "Why are you so mad? Aren't you kind of happy I'm alive?"

She had to turn away then, quickly, and put her hands on her waist. Tears were pooling in her eyes, but she looked up at the ceiling and forced them to dry and not spill onto her cheeks.

"Of course she's happy you're alive, you idiot," said Casey blithely.

"Shut up, Casey," she snapped. "I'm dealing with you later. Why the hell didn't you just tell me he was alive when you came and got me?" One tear made it to her cheek but she hastily wiped it away. She was tired, so tired, but her heart was pounding like she had just run a marathon.

He shrugged. "Wanted you to see him for yourself." She glared at him.

"How did you survive?"

He smiled wryly. "Well, it wasn't one of my best plans." Casey scoffed, earning him another fiery glare from Sarah. "I seriously thought I was going to drown." At this, Chuck shifted uncomfortably and looked at the floor. "Which would have sucked. A lot. But then there was this really loud noise – "

"I heard that, up in the vent," said Casey with some wonderment in his voice.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. The door gave out, and all the water flooded the hallway and knocked over the guards and – "

"You heard that noise?" Sarah turned on Casey, her voice furious. "Why the hell didn't you tell me so we could go back and get him?" Casey was looking at her like she was insane, but before she could respond, Chuck interrupted.

"Um, hi, Sarah?" said Chuck with that awkward little wave he did every once in a while that made her stomach to funny, dizzy turns. "Are you still mad at me for being alive?"

"I'm not mad at you for being alive," she said gruffly, and then sniffed. She opened her mouth to say more, but something blocked her throat as she looked at him, bedraggled and wet and bruised and _alive_.

Again, without thinking, she cross the space to him in three steps, grabbed his jaw and slammed her lips against his.

She didn't know what made her do it. Okay, that was definitely a lie. But right then was also most definitely not the moment to be kissing the asset she had failed to protect in front of her partner. But she could feel his heart beating, staccato and fast, in his chest and feel his arms strong around her and his lips warm on hers and it was _so_ worth it.

Her mind was beautifully, deliciously blank. Nothing in the world mattered past having this man in her arms.

Behind them, somewhere in that outside world Sarah had grown so tired of, someone cleared their throat. Pointedly. "If you two are quite done, now?"

Slowly, achingly, they broke apart. Chuck was looking down at her with lidded, astonished eyes, pulling in deep breaths and not letting go of her waist. His thumb ran up and down over her spine and she shivered.

Then, Sarah let herself smile. "Not really the time."

"Yeah," he said wryly, still not letting her go.

"Later." Her voice was hushed, choked, but hopeful. And there it was, that damn grin of Chuck's that made her knees go embarrassingly weak.

"Walker? Bartowski?" They turned, slipping a little bit apart but keeping an arm around each other. There was Beckman, arms crossed, a surprisingly smug look on her face. She almost smiled at them. "You don't want me to call in another 49-B, do you?" Sarah could swear there was a playful twinkle in her eye, just for a moment.

"No, ma'am," answered Sarah quickly.

Beckman nodded and beckoned Team Bartowski over. "All right. Now that the three of you are back together, we have a mission."

"General?"

"Saunders," she said grimly. "We're taking that son of a bitch down."

--

AN: Well, this is it. I leave tomorrow for a semester abroad literally traveling around the world, and I won't have a laptop with me. And I'll have really limited internet access. So this is the last update for a while. I'm sorry I didn't finish it before I left - I tried really hard, but there are a LOT of things to do when one is leaving for 5 months, so I was a little busy. Anyway, I didn't leave you hanging as badly as the last to chapters. ;)  
To all those who have been reviewing - THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all. I hope you'll come back and read the story when I finish it.


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